One of the worst things about the Internet is the ease it affords even the most compassionate among us to mock someone else’s discomfort when we judge their hurt to be lacking in merit or perspective. I am just as guilty of this as anyone else and it shames me to think of how frequently I have held someone else’s discomfort in disdain, particularly when you step back for a second and realize that often when someone complains about something it is not actually the specific incident about which they are expressing displeasure that bothers them; they are trying to convey a more profound pain that they cannot fully relate because it is so difficult to confront and the mere act of turning to words would prove too traumatic. All complaints are actually about a deeper wound, an existential ache about which we might never cease wailing were we able to accurately articulate it. That said, if you are currently pissing and moaning that your Twitter background disappeared you need to grow the fuck up and get a real problem. Jesus Christ, what’s wrong with you?