This is my third day off of facebook. I deactivated my account. I am quickly learning that quitting facebook may be... the hardest thing i've EVER DONE.
I glance at the clock. It's still. Time ceases to move.
I grow weary.
Little glinting beads of sweat run down my forehead; onto my brow.
The small icon reading "Facebook" with the little F symbol stares at me. She calls to me... singing a sweet siren song filled with ever-cascading lyrical waterfalls of joy involving friends, events, photos and of course, pokes.
But alas, the account has been deactivated. Not dead, but not living. It's soul trapped in facebook purgatory; stuck forever as a cyberspace zombie, craving facebook friends' flesh.
Of course... I could just reactivate the account.
Those bastards. The whole arrogant bunch of them, here is what they did. Knowing that facebook is literally addicting, they make it so that you can pick up your account even after it has been deactivated.
So now I am forced to the streets in search of real... friends; actual people. Interactions, face to face. Smiles, frowns, giggles, sneezes, and dirty looks.
Maybe if I just pretend real life is like facebook...
Do you want to be my friend? (give me a high five on my right hand for accept user, right hand miss followed by "psych" for deny user, kick me in the balls for block user) |