I posted a photo on Instagram of a fourth century Christian monastery formerly known for its mosaic floors, floral decorations and unusual geometric forms.

I posted a video on Instagram of blankets here and there over a large yard.

I posted a photo on Instagram whose colours were so vibrant that people took a while to realise they were seeing a human clothed in sand and scarlet ribbons.

I posted a list of journalists’ names on Instagram. The list was too long for a post or a story so I made a reel. Instagram reminded me that reels with voiceover get more attention. I read aloud some of the names but I ran out of time to read them all.

I posted a video on Instagram of the Minister for Foreign Affairs at a press conference, confirming the friendship of states.

I posted a photo on Instagram of a grey tube, bigger than a man. There was handwriting on the tube in a language I couldn’t read.

I posted a video on Instagram of a dog doing yoga. I addressed it to the algorithm and added hashtags about puppies, sunsets, beaches and funny memes.

I posted a comment on someone else’s Instagram reel. I wrote that I had nothing left to say about what I had seen.

I posted a photo on Instagram of people on the ground in a schoolyard. Instagram told me it would put a warning message on the post and asked if I would like to proceed. I proceeded.

I posted a photo on Instagram of a man cradling his granddaughter.

I posted a headline about statistics on Instagram. I placed beside it another headline that queried the statistics.

I posted a video of a huge brown bear on a swing in a suburban backyard. I addressed it to the algorithm and added hashtags about holidays, love, kittens and flowers.

I posted a video on Instagram of the Minister for Foreign Affairs at a press conference, expressing concern.

I posted a video on Instagram of people in a race. They were carrying other people and limp children.

I posted a photo on Instagram of a mother cradling her two sons.

I posted a photo on Instagram of a bulging plastic bag carried by a young boy.

I posted a photo on Instagram of a man in uniform playing with women’s underwear.

I posted a video on Instagram of a series of explosions, all in a row, like a belt of fire.

I posted a quote on Instagram from the Minister for Foreign Affairs, expressing concern.

I posted a photo on Instagram of a tiny peacock spider with vivid blue markings and two jauntily extended legs. I addressed it to the algorithm and added hashtags about nature, arachnids, photography and mating rituals.

I posted a photo on Instagram of a wide grey landscape studded with shards like broken teeth.

I posted a photo on Instagram of people lying in awkward positions on a shattered concrete floor.

I posted a video on Instagram of two men walking, then falling down.

I posted a photo on Instagram of a part of a child. Instagram told me it would put a warning message on the post and asked if I would like to proceed. I proceeded.

I posted a statement on Instagram from the Prime Minister calling for social cohesion.