As you drive through the California desert, your car lugging along the putrid-smelling Salton Sea hours from civilization, a painted mountain dots the horizon, the heat of the desert blurring the view from your windshield. The decorated hill, Salvation Mountain, glaringly welcomes you into what is dubbed "the last free place in America."

The mountain preaches as you climb to its peak, a cross perched atop the summit. Looking down from the painted mountaintop, all you see is dusty desert land extending for miles.

And as you stand atop the visionary piece constructed and painted by Leonard Knight, you feel empowered. You feel the messages the mountain is boasting pumping through your veins -- "God is love" and "Love is universal." You can't tell if its the 100-degree weather emanating from the cloudless sky or the enlightening pastel-stained mountain that's making you want to abandon civilization forever -- and merely enjoy the view.

That's exactly what the population of the off-the-grid town, Slab City, does -- they enjoy an unobstructed view of the world. With nothing but sand stretching for miles, the people who inhabit the little electricity-free town gage a clear perception of what it's really like to abandon civilization. It's sounds like a surreal, alternate universe; sans Snapchat, Instagram, Facebook, and the likes. They don't need the instant gratification of a hundred likes on their post. Instead, they revel in the only thing that truly matters -- love.

In the center of the town, plopped in Niland, Calif., is an art garden that's open to the public -- sculptures constructed from old toys and planks of wood dot a sandy plot dedicated to the exhibit. As you walk through, eyes catching each bizarre piece that satirizes modern America, you feel ashamed of the priorities that you devote your time to -- constructing a social media facade of perfection.

The sculpture comprised of TV screens adorned with blaring mockery instills a renewed perspective. As you read the headlines blared across the screen -- the piled boxes blocking the beautiful desert-scape -- you realize how refracted your view of the world is. While you ingest what's happening around the world through a convoluted media lens, you might be missing the seemingly insignificant happenings around you that reveal an unbiased truth -- a revelation of our fleeting time and the inimitable miracle that ishumanity. And perched on the top left of the piled junk is the most powerful message -- a TV box emblazoned with a harsh blank screen.

I'm not suggesting a radical coup to overthrow the reign of social media -- I'm contrastingly encouraging the selfies and the snapshots of your daily life. I'd be a hypocrite to imply that our current dependency on the Internet, television, and Facebook is a detriment to humanity. I'm merely offering the insight I came across the day I visited Slab City: next time you purse your lips in the perfect duck face when taking a selfie, avert your gaze from the beautiful foreground (your face) and admire the background; you're sure to be amazed. Don't let the whirlwind of reality pass you by, forcing you to depend entirely on technology to fill you in on what you could have witnessed firsthand.

So, as you metaphorically drive away from Slab City, your car chugging along with freight trains, blazing a trail through the desolate desert, check your awesome self out in the rearview mirror -- but don't lose sight of what lies ahead.