I’m just a person here with an opinion, hence what a blog is for.
I should be writing about more frivolous or things of an exploratory nature, but 2020 was not the year to live large. Don’t fret–I will be shallow again soon enough.
Plastic surgery upcoming!
In full disclosure, I had a lightbulb moment on a South Korean rooftop. It was dark, I just stepped in a puddle, and I kept looking around me. Amongst a sea of people shuffling about concrete ground and low hanging ceiling, I had never felt more isolated as a human being. I guess this is what it means to have the “off” switch go off.
Honestly, how does one gracefully reveal “Excuse me, I think the walls are closing in?”
Aren’t we as human beings supposed to seek, forge, and even romanticize connection with one another?
In the following eye opening moments that my existence at this event (that I wasn’t even wanted at) was a mere afterthought and that it would probably be best if I never drunkenly existed on a mess of concrete in the first place, a kind soul shoved me in an overpriced cab.
Hey, at least the dog is always happy to see me.
I hid in my haphazard blanket burrito and started getting real with myself. Why did I even disappear from Facebook in the first place?
Stay with me here. Facebook isn’t getting real so much as what it’s supposed to stand for–interconnectedness–does.
Why did I run away?
The truth was that I don’t have freedom of speech, I wasn’t in a good place, and I didn’t know how to really make the words to my friends that I, you know, needed them..in the big serious way.
Instead, I may or may not have become the worst person on the planet and disappeared instead. I’m probably still the worst person, a total mess as it were. So be it. I’ll just own it and we can go on from there.
I started thinking of the real point of social media, and by social media I mean Facebook. You know, because Facebook is about 78% of our DNA or something by now.
I thought of being so far away, of family members home, and of friends from a different time. It would be like opening a time capsule–one that I needed to do to really grow up.
I decided to take a deep breath and clear my messenger inbox. Apologize to those I needed to for disappearing. Ask others how they’ve been, how sorry I’ve been that’s it’s taken me so long to reply.
I got figuratively punched in the face a second time (the first time being on that rooftop) when I saw my second parent’s message right before she died. Of course it had been unopened. I jumped ship from Zuckerworld, after all.
It was a message marked on March 17th, from someone I like to refer to as my second mom. In the last year of her life, I fell off the face of the Earth, ever concerned by about 50 hours of melancholy and the obsession of what my peers would further label me negatively for, if I didn’t achieve the same milestones as they. (I wasn’t and didn’t.)
I’m so sorry, Aunt Sue. I not so secretly hope that we had some kind of telepathic communication before your untimely departure. Maybe we silently nodded in agreement whenever we saw a dog getting a furever home or a solid plaid combination.
Next was the comment box. Oh gosh, there were happy birthdays. Really? I felt so guilty. My biological father wished me one. I knew it was time.
I sent him a message saying I love him and I forgive him. I mean it. Sometimes less is more.
I went off on a pixelated scavenger hunt of sorts for aged faces from fragmented memories. Sometimes it’s easy to lurk and push the friend request button, but other times you have to be a certified Inspector Ratchet.
I went down the rabbit hole, and I was surprised what I found.
Most people were painfully average, and that’s really not meant to be an insult. I’m just saying that the beautiful people are most likely still beautiful but just a little less beautiful.
The monsters and bullies usually tend to forget their unknown role that they had on your cerebral center stage. They’re busy, too. If you’re lucky, sometimes they’re just plain and meaningless. Good enough for me.
There’s a one off chance that you can get the popcorn and celebrate that the one super awful person, like, totally got their day. But more likely, it’s a post about how hangry they are stuck in the purgatory at the DMV.
Second to best is when you see a glow up, and it’s the best when it was a genuinely cool person.
The saddest is those you can’t find at all, and how you wish you could tell them just once more that really stupid inside joke or a lyric to a shared favorite song. It’s a one-sided memory that has an expiration date, strolling through Target in 2007, procrastinating on some dumb core course paper you knew you would never use “in the real world” anyway.
But, saving the best for last, were all the cool Facebook rectangles that instantly remembered me and even went so far to reach out and get real. The ones I had least expected. How much we had all grown.
I was scared to go on at first and show my hand to the world. It always feels like such a contest. This is always such a controversial quip–but what can I throw in the pot? I don’t want to throw anything in there. Have I done anything of value when judged in front of the almighty feed?
I don’t care where you’ve been or where I’ve been. I’ll love you and accept you, fall backs and all. I just don’t ever want to feel like that unwanted loser on the rooftop.
I’m back on Facebook, and I don’t even care if this post is weird or cringey. I just want to connect. I want to get ugly and real. Let’s just do it together.
And you know what? I think this Lego stepper of a year has really done just that. Amidst the catapults of turds at political stances, and now even some kind of alphabet soup group to join the misfit party, we might finally be able to put down our shields and be all in on something together.
I’m sorry and I really do love you all. Even if you were a jerk back when Ke$ha was supposedly cool.
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