Okay. It's you, not me.
This time I was fine with being without you, without knowing what my neighbors were having for dinner, or that the scarf I posted would be bought by my best friend so that we could be 'twins', or that my 85 year old Grandma would also be posting her obligatory remarks about my latest tattoo, and in'sin'uate that I might be going to the darkside.
The mystery, it's just not there any more..
I know too much of the wrong information, and everyone knows everything about me.
If I meet someone new, chances are he's on the net to find every piece of cyber evidence to predicate reasons why we may or may not hang out again.
I can know as much about him, and you too if I stretch the spectrum of circuits into my manipulated tech savvy, or find someone who can breach them.
With shows like Catfish that dash the dreams of photoshop wizards who make their online lives appealing to catch admirers, and then get cut loose, we're starting to invest ourselves in the same invisible friends we created on play grounds.
Bottom line...
I think I'm losing touch.
There's no need for me to go back for my high school reunion now. I know so much about my graduating class and their expanding families, divorces and untimely deaths. Not to mention, that my own mother is on it all day long because it's only 2 p.m. and I already know that two of you have delivered babies, and a cousin has an ugly new husband who is mutual friends on Facebook with my second grade teacher and Grumpy Cat.
And then there's the privacy settings that work as well as a sheer curtain after night fall. People can still see everything, including when I'm on vacation and that you lied about being sick at home.
My Dad was a huge conspiracy theorist, from everything to Free Mason Cults and the One World take over. I'm sure he would agree that you don't have to worry about the government spying on you, because you're putting it all out there anyway including the man in Florida, who killed his wife and then posted the pictures on Facebook.
I know when you work out, what you eat, and when you kill people.
Fantastic.
I'm starting to know too much, not to mention that when I don't have my finger on the pulse of national news I may unwittingly post something vaguely inappropriate like waging a war on why I prefer Miss Kansas to the newly crowned Miss America. That was about the time I wanted to 'Deactivate' my account.
People aren't getting jobs, or they're losing jobs because of what they're posting on Social Media.
Thank God there was no Facebook during my twenties... it wouldn't have taken a tattoo for most of my friends and family to plan an intervention from the dark side, I stumbled out of it and now into my thirties with PTSD and a lot of grace.
There is humor laced into my cynicism, but the truth is that I'm no longer comfortable with the transparency.
I watched in horror as another mother lost her son this last week on Facebook, and I'm seeing life in all of it's phases pass by in 32 or 64 bit compression of fonts and facts. I still have Twitter, and it's 140 characters of link or text. I can handle it so far without needing to know what your favorite color is or your complicated status.
As for the rest, I think I will deactivate into the oblivion of not knowing and hope that we have coffee without previews.
I hope to write more, and status less.
I'm sorry Facebook, it's not you after all.
It's Me.
