Trapped on FACEBOOK

Sub-zero temperatures encourage me to stay indoors and write? no, read? no, clean? no, use my cell minutes? no. I check my Facebook page and feel an overwhelming desire to communicate with my so called 156 “friends” – communicate my loathing for myself and Facebook, them, the weather, the world, modern civilization. If I can wean myself from TV, chocolates, sex and expensive face creams, why can’t I extract myself from Facebook? What am I expecting, more to the point, what do I expect to miss out on if I disappear from cyberspace altogether? Facebook is like a friendly game of Parcheesi. Nobody cares if they win,lose, or play well, they just want everyone to know they’re in the game. The game includes sophomoric wit, irreverence, disdain for Facebook, a craving to be validated, a longing for intimacy without risk or energy, a desire to let other people know either the best about your life (heading to St. Bart’s ) or the worst, (home with a stomach flu, eviction, etc) – anything but the nothing of our lives, the part of our lives that cannot be expressed with in sentence beginning is Laurel Is………………..  Facebook has helped me reconnect with people who didn’t want to reconnect with me because if they had wanted to, it would have been easy to type my name into a good search and come up with my phone number. I have to get off Facebook. I’m going to give myself one more week of scanning through my “friends” postings and the vicarious thrill I get from reading what they are writing. Reading what they are taking the TIME to write, knowing that a hundred people will be reading it. I am surprised that Facebook remains Fluff. What if we really began a discussion at the risk of becoming earnest. No, too big a risk…

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