No, no, you heard me correctly, it’s you.
I mean, we had a great run, but I think it’s time we moved on. We’re just too different…
I love having a few really good friends. The ones I effortlessly connect with even if it’s been a few months, or even years; the people who really know who I am.
You, however, have over 750 million friends1. How can you possibly understand or appreciate that many people? Sometimes I feel like I’m just a piece of data to you. Is that how you think of me?! A piece of devilishly handsome binary code?
01010011 01110100 01100101 01110110 01100101 01101110 00100000 01001111 00100111 01001110 01100101 01101001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101110 01101111 00100000 01110000 01101001 01100101 01100011 01100101 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01101101 01100101 01100001 01110100 00100001
There is more to me than just my looks and incredible ability to grow facial hair, Facebook. But you wouldn’t know that because you never let me get a word in edgewise. You’re always telling me what other people are up to.
I go to what is supposed to be our home page but it doesn’t feel much like home at all; it’s built entirely by the walls of others.
News feed my ass.
It’s non-stop gossip. A perpetual state of you informing me what all of my “friends” are up to. Sometimes I just want to upload a new profile pic without having to feel like I’m in high school again…
“That’s Tammy, Trey’s ex-girlfriend. This is classic Tammy. Trey broke up with Tammy because Maureen Kinallen said that she saw Tammy flirting with Walt Timby at a party, but she was only doing it to make Trey jealous, because, you know, she thought that Trey secretly liked Erin Hannabry, but he doesn’t like Erin Hannabry; it was all a bunch of bull.”
While we’re on the subject, does everyone have to be my “friend”? Could you let me have some “acquaintances”, “co-workers”, or maybe even “women I barely know but may want to become friends with after I examine all of their pics and make judgments based on if they look hot and have babe-a-licious friends”? (It’s ok to admit it; we’re all shallow to some degree).
Let’s be honest, I wouldn’t invite 347 people to my birthday party so why must we call them friends? The only people who ever comment on what I have to say are people I talk to on a regular basis anyway.
Let’s get a few things out into the open.
I enjoy my privacy.
- You like airing your dirty laundry to the world.
I take pleasure in expressing a myriad of emotions.
- All you seem capable of is . I need more than that.
I am easily distracted by exorbitant amounts of information.
- Sensory and informational overload is your specialty.
It’s not that I’m right and you’re wrong; we just don’t match. It’s like trying to stuff a square peg into a round hole.
… I don’t feel like getting out my hammer.
Now most guys would think I’m crazy for saying this,
but it’s odd to me that you not only bypass jealously mode, you actually encourage me to other people. You even inform me when someone else has poked me back… were you watching the whole time?
I’ll be honest, my good friend Melissa and I had been poking each other for years. It would be a few times a week, or maybe even a couple times a day. Granted, it was purely for fun and I never meant any harm, but really… you have nothing to say about that?
Come to think of it, my friend Tyler told me you were there when he poked this one babe he met at Chili’s. Is that true? How many other people do you help poke?!
Oh dear Lord! I can’t believe this is real. It’s all so clear to me now.
Deep breath… woosah… serenity now…
I’m a little thunderstruck, but I think I’m ok.
If we were ever going to take this to the next level you can’t be helping everyone poke one another. I know, I have to ease off my own poke button as well…
I’m trying. It’s a process.
We did have some good times and quite a bit of fun in our 6 years together. You helped me stay in touch with travel companions, endorsed my business, helped me connect with some beautiful gals, allowed me to share phenomenal photos with friends, and let me express my thoughts to hundreds of people (ok, 10-20 actually read anything I had to say).
But when it comes down to it, I just want to get old fashioned.
Back to basics.
So I can focus on my goals, close friends, and meeting new people in-person. You know, the opportunity to get to know someone by creating a dialogue, not merely looking at pictures of them and reading hourly updates they’ve posted on their wall.
“She’s gotta be as cool as she is hot, right? That’s usually how it works.”
I thrive on being around others. There’s something about it; an energy exists in the presence of the right people. Wasting time with friends isn’t a waste at all. It’s a breath of fresh air that refills your social and emotional lungs. Have you ever felt that Facebook?
I know I need to work on my will power. You didn’t make me scroll through my news feed until I found something interesting, or look at ex-girlfriends profiles, or continuously think about creating the perfect profile pic.
But you didn’t help me escape those time wasting minutiae either. From a personal standpoint, you’ve caused me more harm than good.
And that is why we can no longer be, Facebook.
I understand the obsession your millions of friends have with you by spending over 700 billion minutes a month2 with you. After all, humans are social creatures by nature.
I’ll be social in my own way.
Since we’ve been apart, I’ve started down a new career path, connected with two old friends via letters sent through this thing called the mail (pen pals baby!), and have finally moved back out on my own. It’s hard to express the euphoric feeling to once again be moving in a direction I want to be going.
Facebook, you wield a tremendous amount of power that I’m not capable of handling, at least right now. I don’t think a lot of people are. You fulfill our obsession for instant gratification with such ease that you’ve become quite the irresistible Siren.
You place a limitless amount of information regarding millions of people at our fingertips. One click of the mouse and we can uncover more than we ever needed to know about the person we just met at the park. Of course they do have control over which information is presented and how much of it is shared, but who doesn’t want to look their best in the public eye these days?
Let’s hope Matt’s future employer understands that notion as he inspects his photo albums and wonders if he’ll be able to complete his work as efficiently as he can take that beer bong.
Only time will tell where our paths will lead. Mine will most likely lead to simplicity, and yours to complexity. I can only hope your friends will understand how useful of a tool you can be. But my guess is that the majority will only continue to abuse you.
I don’t object to or despise those who care to share their lives with you, that’s their choice; it’s not mine.
I wish you the best and hope you reach 1 billion friends. Maybe that will fill the void.
Take care of yourself Facebook.
1,2 Statistics from facebook.com (http://www.facebook.com/press/info.php?statistics)