I Fucking Hate You Facebook, I Really Do!

I used to have a facebook profile.

That, alone, should work as the understatement of the year. I used to be amongst the millions of happy-go-lucky users of one of the most succesfull social networks of this, our current decade. Used, were; all key words in the plot that thickens.

To me, as to the countless, facebook used to be the shit. Now, quite literally, I consider facebook to be not more than shit. It profoundly sickens me that at random times in the day I think it through, long and hard to return. Should I give in? Let go of my pseudo-antisocial tendencies and stop my ongoing hate campaing against the network in question? Should I go back and have my grip on the pulse of the community?

It sickens me because for a moment, as tiny as it is, I think of the reasons why I should go back ignoring the fact that it is this same reasons why I left facebook, a badly hurt, agonizing beast on the side of the road shaking madly in cold and desperation, holding dearly for life with it's guts spilling all over the asphalt of the cybernetic highway were I so boldly ran over it high on frustation, hatred and a trigger happy state of mind.

At least, for me, that's what I did.

Most of my friends have heard the tale of my farewell to the evil site. Today I told it again. It's a tale for the ages, complete with unfulfilled expectations, broken hearts and a yearning for what never came. But it's not a tragic story, no one but the beast died in the process. And as I told my friend today, as I told some before, one day, someday, the evil site will fall, just like the many before it. A new one might emerge, but the one will die, as it did for me, as it will for many.

My hatred, my spur of disdain and this current rant, naturaly, is the result of a moment of weakness were, as I previously stated, I sickened myself, because I thought about it, I deeply considered going back, reopening my page and clicking away, finally coming to terms with the fact that there are people I never ever see anymore. And then I realized just how horrible a notion that would be.

Going back at the openess, at the focus group and center stage. At the one place were you're everything and everyone can know it. The hell with private settings and selectivty, facebook exists for one reason only and that is to terminate all and every strain of privacy there has ever been or will ever be. A person that prohibits information or turns away from the many things a facebook profile offers is not a true user of the site, and therefore no fun at all.

Lucky for me, I'm the dullest, most boring sunavabitch this side of the mississippi, or I can pretend to be and bitch, moan, reject and turn against the evil site. I can't go back, I won't go back. I don't want to, now that I think about it. It did me wrong, it terminated surprise and originality and exchanged it for a false-on sense of comepetivity at being the first to know something, or saying the coolest line of the week. Being the most interesting person ever and standing out from the group of a couple thousand billion people.

It was all a lie, and at the end of the run it left me with half-assed projects and no expectations. I learned, the hard way, not to believe the internets fable of the pretty interesting girl no one seems to care about, but you. That forgotten, wild specimen that just so very special only I have acces to her. I learned not to trust the coolness of my photographs or the way I dealt with imformation, giving in for the funny and unique or the honest and good willed, for it is all a death trap.

I fucking hate facebook now, because I fell for every dirty trick on the book and would still do if the wretched machine still had a chance. But I sprung from it's death grip, onto my own individual terms and turned my back on it. Fuck Facebook and everything it stands for. We allready have msn. Far as I'm concerned, it's all we fucking need. But the charade lives on.

All the dirty old tricks, all the people I welcomed into my life, half hopping to reconect with those whom I estranged, and keeping in touch with those whom I see allmost everyday. Thinking that in the years that've passed, magically, they've all transformed and now complete the full circle that is my personality. They all want to hear about movie facts and comic-based opinions.

They all want to hear the string of echoes that stir in my head, all the talk and walked based on my all-time greatest heroes, from the ones that I knew back in junior high, to the ones I know now. All those people want to hear the same rant 100 million times that firmly state Kevin Smith is a superior life form, Woody Allen is a fucking genius and Hunter S. Thompson is a demigod. All of them believe in the frightening posibilities of a zombie outbreak and understand chat room lexycon.

They're interested on the latest news concerning the gaming universe, they all love the 80's and enjoy watching anime. They all like the same music I hear and they are cool and crazy and free.

They're not. Not all of them can be this way. Not everyone can be a happy sunavabitch whom I can hang with and now that I understand it, I don't want them to be.

Because then what need would I have of my friends? To see them, talk to them? What need would there be to stand out? Why should I even bother showing up in our usual hanging spots? Anything I wanna know about them, I can just check it on facebook? Their current moods, their vacation pictures, their opinions, their concerns, their worries, their struggles, their merits, their conquests.

I could easily tell if they're dating or not. If our friendship is really worth the effort or heading to the gutter. Everything would be at my reach, nothing would be a surprise or a revelation.

Fuck Facebook and everything it represents.

Because I value the truth and beauty that is coming to school one day and finding out that my best friend has grown a beard, that somebody else started dating that one chick they've been eyeing out for a while. Because if somebody really cared about me being somewhere they would flat out say it, invite me or whatever. Because no one has the right to know something about me I wanna keep a secret or that I don't mind a few people knowing.

Beacause I don't wanna deal with cutting ties to people and situations, to past lifes and forgotten moments that remain so for a reason.

This is what I want, my voice to reasonate in the walls of my subconcient mind having anyone worth their salt reading them if there is any true and real interest.

This is what I'm happy with.

The Bitching.

The Complaining.

The make believe that everything is fucked, but I stand above it with reverence.

In this age and time, this is what I value. People are a mystery, one that only few are really worth uncovering. And in my weakened state, I was compelled to go back and taking the easy way onto uncovering the secrets of the soul that hid on those very special people. But I was wrong. There is absolutely nothing even remotley heroic or divine of loging in, typing some words, browsing some page and pretending to have something in common with someone just by looking into their page.

That isn't having something special with someone, that's cheating. There isn't surprise. There isn't context. There's just facebook and it's own particular habbit of exhibiting people.

Fuck Facebook. I'll decide what kind of awesome I fuckin' am.