Willow Smith has been feeling sh-tty. And she`s sharing it on Twitter:

Sometimes... Life sucks

This day has been horrific... #wishlifewaseasy

I am regular person.... For forget that... Nobody has a PICTURE PERFECT life... I am still just a child...

Not surprisingly, everyone is now assuming that her melancholy is to do with her parents, given all the speculation around the status of the Will and Jada relationship which, let me remind you, was first perpetuated by In Touch, or some other equally unreliable tabloid.

Willow took to Twitter again then to deny that her messages had anything to do with her family:

Omg, stop it already! I'm not allowed to have a bad day? This has nothing to do with my parents! Geez!

Willow is 11. Does the drama start at 11? I’m too old to remember. But I do know that eventually the teen spirit does arrive with all its highs and lows, magnified to hysterical proportions by hormones and self absorption. Back in my day, teen angst was shared over the phone, over the antique that is now called a land line, during marathon conversations with best friends or on weekend sleepovers, lamenting the return of Monday and all the uncertainty that a new school week presents. These revelations were exchanged furtively. The inadvertent publication of them would be considered a mortifying experience.

But now, now the teen journal is Twitter. Or Facebook. Or text message. No feeling is too private for broadcast. And yet, despite the advances in communication, communicating, at least properly, is becoming a lost skill. How can someone truly understand you when they can’t see your body language, how you shirk when recalling a specific memory, how your eyes shift when you talk about someone you claim you don’t care about, how you exhale whenever a particular person’s name comes up?

Duana just added while I was reading this back to her that this is their definition of “normal”. My definition of it then, what I just described in relation to communicate, and how we relate to each other, is antiquated. What are the effects of this new “normal”? The new normal is such that when Willow feels sad in the middle of the night, she shares it with her Twitter followers, and these, in the new “normal” are her friends, the equivalent of mine, over the land line, back in 1985.

It’s lonely enough being a teen. I suspect it could be even more so as a famous teen. And then on top of that, without the properly fulfilling outlets to try to alleviate that loneliness, while I don’t blame you for rolling your eyes over what the plight of Willow Smith, of all people, could possibly be, at the same time, I also don’t doubt that it must be tremendously confusing to be in her position, during such formative years, to have to find herself in these times, and with her peculiar set of circumstances.