Facebook Will Find You

FACEBOOK WILL FIND YOU…

Why bother going back to the "glory days" of football uniforms and cheerleader skirts?

Is our desire to participate in the juvenile, ritualistic tradition of high school reunions and alumni weekends? 

Seeing how well we measured up against our peers?

Isn’t the competition over yet?

 Or are we still waiting to see who has the coolest toys, the biggest diamond, or the most glamorous job title?

Do we attend these events to see how far we have come, or to see how far others have fallen?

Why go anyway?  Now that we have facebook and a whole other host of social networking tools and devices. 

So I finally joined facebook.  At the urging of a few upwardly mobile name-dropper type “friends”,   I finally joined Facebook.  

To see that the girl who fucked my boyfriend in the tenth grade is now wearing his ring?

To listen to my sorority sisters who still gossip about eating disorders and drug problems?

Life is sometimes like a car wreck, you do not want to look, but you cannot turn seem to turn away. And yes, secretly, deep down inside, we are a bit relieved if not happy that it happened to someone else instead of ourselves. Yep, no question: better him then me!

So for everyone out there who recently promised to help before, during, and after my surgery-- you can all breathe a sigh of relief... You need not worry that I might actually take you up on that promise.

If you do not know me well enough to know how difficult it is for me to ask for anything, then clearly you would be the last person I want to see when I wake up the hospital.

I do not care if it is breast cancer or a broken toe-- you are not welcome here. I do not call during a crisis. Not because I am strong, not because I am brave, and not because I am weak. Simply because I am not that person. I am not stoic, I am not brave, and I am just not that person!

If or when I am in trouble, disappointment and broken promises is the very last thing I need or want. Even if it out of some misplaced sense of pity or superficial concern. I have been in trouble before. I know what to expect. I am certainly old enough, and apparently smart enough to have learned the rules of the game by now.

So if you catch me feeling sad, lonely, or just plain sorry for myself, take comfort in knowing that I expect you to walk away-- much like you have in the past. And do not worry, it is okay to think to yourself, better me than you.

REALITY BYTES

So instead, I find it is far better to drown myself in White Noise then baby bullshit and pure stupidity.


To distract myself with fancy websites, useless information, self-reflection, loud music... Fancy gadgets, the newest widgets, and everything else that completely distracts us from the reality of our existence.

To keep us from realizing that we may actually be completely alone in this world and maybe even in the next one too...

It is easier to fake a smile and go about my merry way than to be confronted with the fact that nobody gives a shit about how I feel or what I have been doing, unless, of course, I have something they need.

Something of value, something material. Something concrete. Something that can be sold or something that can be used. Something, of course, other than me.

Because sadly, what gets lost in translation, is the very fact that I am something of value. Something to love. Something to hold on to. Someone who will stay by your side even if it hurts me to do so.

The one thing you will never know is just how much it hurts to watch you walk out the door. Especially when I knew it was coming, or perhaps maybe the only way it could ever have been.

I think I am done.

You can come, you can go-- whenever you like. Eventually I do smarten up-- and the one time you come knocking; I may just not bother to let you in.

Yes-- White Noise.