The Death of the Influencer
They had it coming…
I climb out of the mess of covers keeping me in bed, stumble into the bathroom, and sit down for my “morning conference call.”
While wiping the crust out of my eyes, I pull up my phone and inject internet goodness straight into my veins.
I start scrolling and immediately come across a few cheery twentysomethings twerking in unison as they talk about the benefits of therapy with Talkspace.
Next, two buff bros are yelling at me as they squat a 20-gallon container of AG1 by Athletic Greens.
Finally, some guy named Ninja pops up on my feed as he’s shit-talking 12-year-olds on Fornite while chugging the newest flavor of Mountain Dew.
You know what’s funny?
I’m completely numb.
I don’t feel compelled to buy any of it because I’m too busy thinking about what I’m going to tweet next. And then how I’m going to turn that tweet into my newest Medium post. And then finally how I’m going to use that Medium post as the basis for a self-published book.
I’m not focused on consuming.
Instead, I’m constantly thinking about creating.
You see, these days everyone is an influencer.
