I Like, Therefore I Matter

I currently have two pages open: my blog and my Facebook page.

I normally compose a blog in my journal, type it into a Word document, save it, come back to it after a day or two for edits, then finally post it. I'm creating this one on the fly. I want to capture the free-wheeling, status-frenzy language of Facebook. I promise to only edit it for spelling and grammar, though I know already that I end it with a preposition.

My Facebook is open because, as I search for the next set of "Twisted Words" to type here, I'm "unfriending" while listening to Radiohead.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not drunk and I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I've been meaning to do this for a while. A recent Facebook experiment I tried made me realize that some of the comments that I think about the most when offline are those that greatly annoy me. Sometimes, I don't even consider the people who make them to be friends, yet, in a knee-jerk reaction I added them as such when requested. At times I have probably sent the request myself. I can't remember. Can you ever?

I think every blogger or writer or person who can get past his own insecurities over the general public finding any value in his words has written about the double-edged sword that is Facebook. Kudos to the fellas biographed in The Social Network for causing us tho think about it that much. My own thinking of late is, "Are these people actually my friends?" Because the answer is no, and because I spend far too much of my day overthinking--I should just start watching The Bachelor and Survivor like everyone else, they seem to be cure-alls for thinking--I've been dwelling on the comments, the negative comments people make too much. So I've asked myself, what do I want Facebook to do for me? Do I just want it to be the open fridge or the channel-surf? I mean, shit, I had ex-girlfriends as friends. Only on Facebook can you turn that breakup lie into a truth.

They were the first to go, the exes. Next will be the people I don't consider my friends, really. This will be followed by several hand-wringing hours ruminating on the definition of "friend." (Do my best friends consider me to be their best friends? Do I have any best friends? Are they all just acquaintances? Alas, alas!) Then will be the former students who have achieved adulthood. This one will be hard, because some of them I value for their maturity and intelligence, already surpassing my own. But far too many of them are of the age where they have to tell us their every move or--my personal bugbear--say something opaque to gain the sympathies of their friends.

Status: "I can't believe you'd do that to me!"
Comment 1: ":( What's the matter?"
Comment 2: "ru ok? Your [sic] to [sic] good for him, anyway!"

Family will be hard. That's because we all know we don't always like who we love, and they're certainly not always our friends. I have had a girl try to add me multiple times because we're related through marriage, but I have ignored her every time because I don't want her "Jesus loves ya!" posts smattering my wall. I think I'll keep all family over twenty, but younger than that--again, I just tire of the narcissism. Maybe I should just stay away from the Home page. . .

A blog for another time--seriously, it's half written--is about how indecent we are to each other when using our online personae. When we're anonymous, it's awful, but it's bad enough on FB. Consider how many people would never have the balls to say to you in person what they post on your wall. Pity those who feel they can only express themselves in this fashion.

Facebook, you're a tool. You're an untrustworthy tool that tries to own everything I connect to you, that tries to sell me things I don't care about under the auspices that I might--but I have chosen to hook in and, despite frequent reconsideration, I've never gone offline. It's my own doing. But tonight I've decided it's time to be friends with only those people whom I value receiving input from [sic].