Facebook sure has kicked the shit out of blogging. I sort of miss my half-assed little blogger-buddy community of misfits and secret-harborers with whom I communed late into the night. Then we seemed to lose interest at about the same time. I think it's because everyone wandered off to Pin shit and "friend" people they hated in high school and still hate to this day but now we stay up late into the night creeping on their pages, poring over vacation pictures of the hated homeroom queen's family of gaping smiling assholes standing in front of Dollywood. And we seethe anew. And this feels good.
Now that several years have gone by since I started this little project, I realize just how little anyone cares. Including me. Which is not a bad thing. For the longest time I was very hung up on protecting my privacy and having a creative outlet free from lurkers and judgement. Then I stupidly and for the wrong reasons shared a link to my blog with a psychotically insecure nut-job of a co-worker who went on to pretty much stalk said blog night and day. It was annoying and nauseating (some numbskulls have no idea that we can actually see who visits our blogs. again and again and again and again -- [get a fucking life]!!) and I therefore abandoned it.
For a while. But no one gives a shit about that either. I know I don't. The point is that Facebook kind of blows. I really need to divorce myself from it. I think if I kept track of how many times I logged on to F simply out of boredom or because I wanted (unconsciously) to avoid doing some other, actually productive thing over here, or because I can't help myself, I know I would be appalled. Even now as I write this I am fighting the urge to open the tab to my F page. If I stop how will I ever catch up? Fuck! What's wrong with me???
Several of my friends have given up F for Lent. I know this because they logged on to F to announce (mournfully, which suggests that they truly believe some of their "friends" will become suicidal at the mere idea of missing daily (or 10 daily depending on the person) musings and ramblings and chirpy little quips and observations and cat pictures and shares and I don't even know what that suggests about my "friends." But whatever. All I know is that F is a nasty undertow of voyeurism that sucks one in and drains all the creativity and initiative and will to live. Even though I know all these people with whom I am "friends" are as fucked up and dysphoric as I am and all that bragging and look at me! look at me! bullshit is just that, still, I find it difficult to look away. And that's all I have to say about that. Nice to see you. Thanks for not stopping by.
