I finally remembered what my Facebook password is after forgetting it for, uh... years. I know I'm always going on about how I hate Facebook but yeah, I do actually have a profile. I've never actually posted anything to it and make it a point to remind anyone about to snap a photo of me that I will tear their spleen out through their smiling face if they dare tag me.
Nevertheless, I signed in, and felt confused right away at the new UI which seems to change as often as the seasons do. One thing that's obvious though is the activity log or wall or whatever the fuck they call it when someone posts some shit and it shows up in my feed. Seems like people I knew a decade ago are getting married. Great. We haven't spoken in ages; probably never will again.
I feel disgusted that I'm too curious about their lives to just oust these people from my Friends list. I'm not sure what that voice in my head is expecting, I mean these people are part of my past, but now they are fresh in my present mind as they are now not as I knew them. It made me think of the people I knew as kids, two decades ago; before Facebook and even before MySpace or Geocities. Part of me wonders how my closest friends in grade school have turned out, but a bigger part of me resists the urge to try and find them on Facebook because it would ruin the romance of the memories of them I harbour.
There's a chance friendships may be rekindled, sure, but there's a greater risk that my curiosity about the people I once cared about will be fulfilled and memories of old will be overwritten by the new reality. It's funny how time erodes our youthful innocence and our efforts to rebel against it and push the boundaries of our individuality recreate us every day as someone slightly different than the person we were yesterday. I'm sure that girl I watched disappear from the rear window of my dad's car when we moved away from the old neighbourhood has turned into a wonderful young woman, but to me the memory of that little girl standing in the street is more precious and important to the person I've become than the realities of her current existence could ever be.
So, fuck Facebook. I hope picture postcards will come back into vogue, so I can just mail people I care about an indelible memory before I set off on some new path in life and lose touch with them forever.
From wherever, with all my love, XoXo
Nevertheless, I signed in, and felt confused right away at the new UI which seems to change as often as the seasons do. One thing that's obvious though is the activity log or wall or whatever the fuck they call it when someone posts some shit and it shows up in my feed. Seems like people I knew a decade ago are getting married. Great. We haven't spoken in ages; probably never will again.
I feel disgusted that I'm too curious about their lives to just oust these people from my Friends list. I'm not sure what that voice in my head is expecting, I mean these people are part of my past, but now they are fresh in my present mind as they are now not as I knew them. It made me think of the people I knew as kids, two decades ago; before Facebook and even before MySpace or Geocities. Part of me wonders how my closest friends in grade school have turned out, but a bigger part of me resists the urge to try and find them on Facebook because it would ruin the romance of the memories of them I harbour.
There's a chance friendships may be rekindled, sure, but there's a greater risk that my curiosity about the people I once cared about will be fulfilled and memories of old will be overwritten by the new reality. It's funny how time erodes our youthful innocence and our efforts to rebel against it and push the boundaries of our individuality recreate us every day as someone slightly different than the person we were yesterday. I'm sure that girl I watched disappear from the rear window of my dad's car when we moved away from the old neighbourhood has turned into a wonderful young woman, but to me the memory of that little girl standing in the street is more precious and important to the person I've become than the realities of her current existence could ever be.
So, fuck Facebook. I hope picture postcards will come back into vogue, so I can just mail people I care about an indelible memory before I set off on some new path in life and lose touch with them forever.
From wherever, with all my love, XoXo
