I’ve “deleted” my Facebook multiple times.. Actually, I just deactivated it. I was sick of being on there all the time, but I couldn’t fully commit to deleting it. It was like I was deleting a friend–or 300+–and I just couldn’t do that.
But why? If those 300+ people were really my friends, they would find another way to be in contact with me. I shouldn’t have to rely on a social networking site to prove to me who my true friends are.
Besides the fact that, the more I scroll through the endless stories on my newsfeed, the more I realize that I honestly could not care less about what all those people are doing. A friend posted: “Contractions just started.. My bby boi will be here in less than 8 hours”. Moving past the grammar, which is hard for me to do, I just don’t care. I don’t care if you’re having a “bby boi”, I don’t care if your “boo brought flowrs home. luv him xoxoxo”, I don’t care if you’re “having an O.K. day and bought a coke zero. raise the roof” I. DON’T. CARE. Why does my generation seem to think that EVERY SINGLE THOUGHT must be broadcast to the world?
Says the girl with the blog which is nothing but my moanings-on about “woe is me”. Yeah, I get it.
So, here’s what I’m doing. I’m logging out. Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, they’re all gone. I want to prove to myself that, in the same fashion as hundreds of generations before me, I can live without the daily, hourly, by-the-minute updates which I’ve become “addicted” to recently. I’m going to start with a month, then six months, then hopefully I can get to an entire year without the Trio of Information Sharing.
I’m keeping the blog though. The blog stays.