“People don’t post pictures of themselves crying on Instagram,” he thought to himself. He realized this as he flitted through a crowd of rehearsed smiles, brooding stares, casually flexed muscles, and clever displays of cleavage. The territory of the “sobbing selfie” was his to claim. There was much to think about. Which filter would make his tears sexy? What angle captured the throb of his biceps as the pain pummeled through his body? The sudden death of a close friend provided weeks of opportunities for the unveiling of a trend that would surely catch on quickly. As he convulsed in his room one night, feeling as if he was choking on his grief, he walked into the bathroom to take a mirror shot. He had never watched himself cry. He was unaware of what sadness did to his face. Disgusted, he tried to contort his feelings into something more fashionable, attempting to form a more desirable expression of sorrow. He couldn’t get it right. Each shot was uglier than the last. Exhausted, he stopped sobbing. The small lens of his phone was wet with tears. He turned the phone towards himself and took a photo — a blur that didn’t show much of anything. “Perfect,” he muttered, uploading the picture.