It’s poison. Smog. In theory I love it. Communication is good. Sharing is good. The only problem is that like smoking or drinking coffee it becomes an almost unnoticeable habit. Facebook doesn’t cause cancer but it will fill you with anxiety and slowly twist your thoughts to the point where you don’t remember what it’s like to not have facebook. It’s like a permanent mental winter. You forget what it’s like to wear shorts and be able to go outside in just a t shirt. You forget how happy sunshine can make you. I spent a lot of time on facebook but I didn’t realize how much until I got rid of it. I would instinctively check it after I deactivated my account, up to 8 times a day. My finger would just click the bookmark. No thought. Instinct. Habit. Every funny thought I had was not a thought it was a “status update.” When I was bored in a bar but wanted to give the impression of fun I would think to take a picture and upload. That was when I realized just what was going on. Empty satisfaction. If you make people think you are having fun or doing well, then you are technically doing well and having fun. People who are having tons and tons of fun don’t get on their phone and start updating shit. People who are having an OK time and want reassurance start posting. You want people to think you are having a great time. I’m not saying there is no valid communication on Facebook. I’m saying that for me, childless me, being on Facebook meant constantly comparing my life to other people’s lives. I would see only the highlights and assume the entire world was having fun. I would look at people from high school and think “what ugly kids they have” or “he/she really went nowhere.” I would try to post things that would paint my life in a certain way. I don’t know if I’ve explained it right but I really don’t miss it at all. I’m not saying it doesn’t have valid uses, but for childless people who don’t play farmville all it seems like is an open constantly connected channel to the part of your brain that tells you how fat you are, or how everyone else is having fun but you, or how much better you are than these people… or how good of a poop someone took… which I am not completely innocent of…
It was an easy and convienant way to keep in touch with friends and family, especially in my situation where I live in a different country. I abused it and it clouded my head. I just have to make an effort to communicate with these people in real time or at least wordy and personal emails. I like not knowing everything about everyone. I like talking to someone and not knowing what they ate today or where they went last weekend or what shows they’re watching. There’s so much more to talk about in a real and rewarding fashion. I’m not trying to snob out but I really feel like it’s a good thing, for me.
I realize the irony in sharing a large wall of text claiming that “social websites are shit and people share too much” on a socialish website.
I’ve been chatting with my unofficial psychiatrist Ben over gChat. There is a cloud hanging over me. I am constantly measuring my life and comparing it to the past. Trying to get my brain back into the same space it was when I was “happier.” When I am on my way to work or at work I am having these micro thoughts of “this needs to be like before, whats missing” etc..
In 1995 my dad bought a Gateway computer with a Pentium 133mhz, 16mb of Ram, 1.6gb HD, 4x CD ROM, Video Card with 2mb of Ram,and 3 Pass Color Scanner with Photoshop 3(?). He was out of work and