Dear Instagram.

Dear Instagram,
I must admit, you are a nifty little app. You are so vintage and cute and I adore you for that. You can tell me what all my friends are doing and what Justin Bieber is eating for lunch. Your photo edits are to die for, your buttons meant for my button-touching fingers, and your smarts make me drop. But for all those reasons, we must be separated. All your skills are addictive, keeping me on for hours on end, guiltily. I now stalk people that do not know me. But last of all, every time I see a picture, it leads me to another, and another, and ,yes, another. I hate to break it to you, but it's over Instagram. It's a love/hate relationship, so do not be offended. But your easily pressed buttons are probably sensitive, so you are probably begging me to come back and make my followers happy. But I must let them down. Sorry buds, but I must now hold you down while you wriggle and squirm, and then when the "x" shows up, your gone faster than you can say "FOLLOW ME!". Farewell my friend.
Love,
Brookie :)