Someone sent me an invitation to join Google+. I had left that mail in my inbox and ignored it for 2 months. Finally I decided "Oh what the hell.. no harm trying.." and clicked join.
5 minutes later, I deleted my Google+ account.
Not that I didn't like it.
I just didn't have the energy to start out over on another social networking site. My Facebook is already rather neglected.... who am I to start another social networking account.
I started out with Friendster.. which was quite novel at the time. I skipped Hi5, Myspace and a slew of other randowm networking sites. Couldn't dodge Facebook. Hated Buzz and now, Google+ has been automatically disqualifed for no fault of its own.
I think we live in an age of over connectivity. Those who live in the city already have internet all the time. People who carry iPhones and Blackberrys have their emails in their pockets. Things like WhatsApp or BBM make texting each other a breeze. It's making it ever more convenient for us to connect to one another, but it's not actually making us want to.Or maybe that's just me. I don't want to be connected and contactable all the time. Even with my own boss, colleague, wife or family, I sometimes deliberately ignore their calls. It's fatigue from over connectivity.
When two people have a desire to connect, they will find a way. Once upon a time, it was letters, then telegrams, then phone, then emails, then instant messaging. Today, it's all of the above. Yet, I still find myself no where closer to catching up with people I've promised to catch up with so many weeks and months ago.
An old friend asked me a while ago why I was never on MSN chat. I said I never bother to... and asked why she did. She said it was a great way to keep in touch with everyone at one time. I said if you wanted to keep in touch with me, all you had to do was call. We could talk over the phone or meet up. That's catching up to me.
We are born with 5 senses ;sight, smell, sound and touch and taste. These are the gateways we experience life and each other. If we chat computer to computer, I don't see you in the flesh, I don't smell your scent, I don't hear your voice, I can't touch your skin... and I obviously can't taste you. But if we meet face to face, I see you before my eyes, I can detect you scent, I can hear you loud and clear, I can hold you and make eye physical contact. I obviously still won't taste you (since licking your friends seems rather inappropriate for cannibalistic or sexual reasons). BUT, we do share a meal together, hence a shared experience of taste right?
Anyway, what it really boils down to is this. I' not a hermit. I enjoy keeping in touch with my social circle.... in the flesh and blood that is. The over connectivity I'm talking about is the over connectivity to the virtual world. In the virtual word, 'smileys; 'lol' and other assorted abbreviations and internet lingo become substitute for real human interaction. Which too me, is kinda like being short changed. You want life like a really hearty and wholesome home cooked dinner. Not a genetically modified, artifically flavoured, mass produced burger from crappy fast food chain.
That's why whenever I feel a strong connection with someone, I inevitable have the urge to meet them. Our own minds tell us that there is more to connectivity than just the instant part of it.
Is what I'm saying making any sense to anyone else?
Showing posts with label Facebook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Facebook. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Monday, July 26, 2010
All I Ever Want
It’s my birthday this week.
I asked myself what I’d like to do on my birthday, and found that I don’t really know. How DOES a person celebrate his own birthday? I know of some people who go around announcing the big occasion to everyone and anyone practically fishing for gifts and well wishes. But I don’t think I could ever bring myself to do that. I’ve always been a bit low profile about such things. I think it’s wrong making a big deal out of yourself. Having people celebrate me is awkward enough without having to oblige people to do it.
Birthdays are supposed to be a big deal, and yet I hardly remember any of them. I don’t know what I did on my 16th, 18th or 21st. The only consistent thing I remember of my birthdays is that people always complain that they don’t know what to get for me. And it gets even more difficult when I tell them that there really is nothing I want. Nothing you can buy from stores anyway. They all inevitably end up giving me things like books without really knowing what I do and don’t read. But truth be told, gifts don’t really do it for me. I’m not the kind that gets touched by the thing you bought, but more by what is conveys. To me, a good gift isn’t one that is shiny, polished or expensive. But one that is deliberate and personal. The kind that shows that you remember what they said, you took note of what they liked, or what they needed at the time. Buying me a pair of polka dot sox because you remember I needed them would mean a lot more to me than say buying an expensive tie which I’d chuck to the side anyway. I don’t know if people understand that.
This year has been a year of solitude for me; with a lot of time spent alone – sometimes by circumstances, sometimes by choice. But I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite so lonely, quite so needy, and quite so vulnerable. And I guess that pretty much sums up how I’ve been feeling most of the year – lonely, needy & vulnerable. And I’ve been way too intense, and way too serious to be any sort of fun to be around this year. Even I know it.
But like I said, I don’t know what I’m going to do on my birthday.
I thought of taking the day off. Maybe go on a road trip travelling the country for a day with my camera taking pictures of whatever comes my way. I suppose that’d be quite an interesting thing to do. But I suspect doing it alone would actually make me more depressed than anything else. Otherwise, I’d want to go somewhere where there are nice comfortable seats with a live band playing lounge music the entire night and chill the entire night. But again, it’s just plain sad if you did it alone. Last choice would be to go pig out at the nearby RM20 per head all-you-can-eat-southern-fried-chicken buffet restaurant. That one’s just plain stupid actually.
But while I still haven’t figured out what I do want, I know what I DON’T want. – a barrage of hollow Facebook well wishes.
This is one of the ugly heads of Facebook. One day in a year, your wall will be bombarded with shallow, meaningless birthday wishes from people whom without Facebook, would not even remember how you look like, let alone remember your birthday. In anticipation of this, I have hid my birthday in my privacy settings. I’m not really interested in the well wishes of people who don’t care. Same goes for those who send cute but impersonal emails or text messages about how friends are like stars that you don’t always see but are always there. Sending me spam on my birthday isn’t a gift, it’s an insult.
A birthday is a personal event meant to be celebrated in a personal way. If you want to celebrate or wish someone well on their birthday, please remember these few simple words - up close & personal. Is a call really so hard? Is a cup of coffee really so expensive? If you don’t want to do these things, then the best thing you can do is nothing. A dignified silence is better than an insincere wish – to me at least.
Sigh….
I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me.
Maybe…. Maybe…… what’s truly truly upsetting me when I woke up this morning is the thought that there is a very strong likelihood that I will be spending my birthday alone. There is no party being planned. And even if there was, I’d immediately object to it. My family bought me a birthday lunch last Sunday, so I really don’t want to make them do it twice. I don’t expect anything from any of my friends. I have spared the lot of them the need to send me half hearted wishes by not revealing it. And those I consider dear to me – well frankly I’d still love them even if they don’t remember. What they do for me for the rest of the 364 days of the year means so much more. Whether or not they remember doesn’t affect the status of our friendship. Heck, even my own father never gets my birthday right.
People were right when they said they never know what to get me. They say I’m complicated and hard to read. I’m inclined to agree. But what I want on my birthday is the same thing I want every other day. In fact, it’s the same thing everybody wants every day of their lives.
I just want to be appreciated. I just want to know that my tiny little existence has had some sort of meaningful effect on the people I deal with in life. I just want to know that all the things I have done in service of others have not been for for nothing. I want to be reaffirmed that whenever I put others before me, it is not in vain - that the act is acknowledged and appreciated. The only thing I want on the day I was given life, is the assurance that my existence is of meaning to others.
That’s all.
That’s all I ever want
I asked myself what I’d like to do on my birthday, and found that I don’t really know. How DOES a person celebrate his own birthday? I know of some people who go around announcing the big occasion to everyone and anyone practically fishing for gifts and well wishes. But I don’t think I could ever bring myself to do that. I’ve always been a bit low profile about such things. I think it’s wrong making a big deal out of yourself. Having people celebrate me is awkward enough without having to oblige people to do it.
Birthdays are supposed to be a big deal, and yet I hardly remember any of them. I don’t know what I did on my 16th, 18th or 21st. The only consistent thing I remember of my birthdays is that people always complain that they don’t know what to get for me. And it gets even more difficult when I tell them that there really is nothing I want. Nothing you can buy from stores anyway. They all inevitably end up giving me things like books without really knowing what I do and don’t read. But truth be told, gifts don’t really do it for me. I’m not the kind that gets touched by the thing you bought, but more by what is conveys. To me, a good gift isn’t one that is shiny, polished or expensive. But one that is deliberate and personal. The kind that shows that you remember what they said, you took note of what they liked, or what they needed at the time. Buying me a pair of polka dot sox because you remember I needed them would mean a lot more to me than say buying an expensive tie which I’d chuck to the side anyway. I don’t know if people understand that.
This year has been a year of solitude for me; with a lot of time spent alone – sometimes by circumstances, sometimes by choice. But I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite so lonely, quite so needy, and quite so vulnerable. And I guess that pretty much sums up how I’ve been feeling most of the year – lonely, needy & vulnerable. And I’ve been way too intense, and way too serious to be any sort of fun to be around this year. Even I know it.
But like I said, I don’t know what I’m going to do on my birthday.
I thought of taking the day off. Maybe go on a road trip travelling the country for a day with my camera taking pictures of whatever comes my way. I suppose that’d be quite an interesting thing to do. But I suspect doing it alone would actually make me more depressed than anything else. Otherwise, I’d want to go somewhere where there are nice comfortable seats with a live band playing lounge music the entire night and chill the entire night. But again, it’s just plain sad if you did it alone. Last choice would be to go pig out at the nearby RM20 per head all-you-can-eat-southern-fried-chicken buffet restaurant. That one’s just plain stupid actually.
But while I still haven’t figured out what I do want, I know what I DON’T want. – a barrage of hollow Facebook well wishes.
This is one of the ugly heads of Facebook. One day in a year, your wall will be bombarded with shallow, meaningless birthday wishes from people whom without Facebook, would not even remember how you look like, let alone remember your birthday. In anticipation of this, I have hid my birthday in my privacy settings. I’m not really interested in the well wishes of people who don’t care. Same goes for those who send cute but impersonal emails or text messages about how friends are like stars that you don’t always see but are always there. Sending me spam on my birthday isn’t a gift, it’s an insult.
A birthday is a personal event meant to be celebrated in a personal way. If you want to celebrate or wish someone well on their birthday, please remember these few simple words - up close & personal. Is a call really so hard? Is a cup of coffee really so expensive? If you don’t want to do these things, then the best thing you can do is nothing. A dignified silence is better than an insincere wish – to me at least.
Sigh….
I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me.
Maybe…. Maybe…… what’s truly truly upsetting me when I woke up this morning is the thought that there is a very strong likelihood that I will be spending my birthday alone. There is no party being planned. And even if there was, I’d immediately object to it. My family bought me a birthday lunch last Sunday, so I really don’t want to make them do it twice. I don’t expect anything from any of my friends. I have spared the lot of them the need to send me half hearted wishes by not revealing it. And those I consider dear to me – well frankly I’d still love them even if they don’t remember. What they do for me for the rest of the 364 days of the year means so much more. Whether or not they remember doesn’t affect the status of our friendship. Heck, even my own father never gets my birthday right.
People were right when they said they never know what to get me. They say I’m complicated and hard to read. I’m inclined to agree. But what I want on my birthday is the same thing I want every other day. In fact, it’s the same thing everybody wants every day of their lives.
I just want to be appreciated. I just want to know that my tiny little existence has had some sort of meaningful effect on the people I deal with in life. I just want to know that all the things I have done in service of others have not been for for nothing. I want to be reaffirmed that whenever I put others before me, it is not in vain - that the act is acknowledged and appreciated. The only thing I want on the day I was given life, is the assurance that my existence is of meaning to others.
That’s all.
That’s all I ever want
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Indexed.... almost.
Just so you know, I'm a regular reader of http://thisisindexed.com/ which is run by this person who basically draws out in charts and diagrams some of the funny observations he / she makes about stuff. I like it because it's often quite insightful, funny.. plus you don't have to read through a thousand words before you get the point (unlike this blog... :-S)
This chart was totally inspired by that. I was trained as an engineer, so looking, studying and understanding and making charts are kind of natural to me... That, plus I just had one of the most unproductive days in office for quite some time now.... and was close to dying of boredom.
Hope you like it!
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Junk food the Facebook way...
Let's admit it, Facebook brings out the narcissist in all of us.
Today, it's Facebook, yesterday it was Myspace, and way before that it was Friendster. It's not so much about Facebook or any particular social networking website itself than it is our perpetual need as human beings to be affirmed that we are part of society. We need our lives to be constantly acknowledged for us to feel we exist. Granted, that need has always been there way before any of this ever existed, but I just can't help but feel that things such as Facebook has just turned that desire into something ugly.
Once upon a time, you feel acknowledged and reaffirmed when someone pats you on the shoulder, someone calls you on the phone, someone meets you up for coffee. Now, we post stuff up on our profiles and wait for people to say something about it. How many times have you eagerly logged onto your Facebook account just to check if anyone left a comment or a 'Like' sign on the latest photo or post that you made? How many times have you secretly wondered why no one has said anything about your latest status update? How many times have you gotten a kick out of knowing that so many people seem to be interested in the things you have to say and share? If you've ever done any one of these things, even once, you know what I mean.
And what do you make of people who seem to be posting something on Facebook all the time? It's one thing to have interesting things you want to say or post online, but please explain the need to update the whole world on how your lunch tasted, what time you woke up in the morning, and when you saw the Mamak dig his nose making your roti canai? It's narcissism.
I have this nagging sensation that it is the people who don't (or hardly) ever Facebook at all that lead fuller, more proper lives. I may be wrong.... but a good number of people I have on my friends list do not Facebook at all. They have an account, but they don't actually do anything with it. They are all busy living out there in the world of sight, scent, sound and touch... not in this virtual reality of endless 'like''s, LOL's, videos and comments.
I'm not saying if you Facebook regularly you're a hopeless narcissist. And I'm not saying if you Facebook, you've got no life either. Heck, even I do it. I think Facebook is fun. You get to share videos, see your friends photos and say whatever you want to anyone and everyone so easily. It really is a fantastic way to connect to everyone instantly. This was impossible 15 years ago.
But looking at the way many of us use it, I just think that getting into the world of Facebook is a little like eating junk food. A bit is fun. A lot is indulgence. Too much just makes you feel like shit and you get fat and lazy Whichever way, it's still rubbish.
Ironically, I'll probably post this up on Facebook for everyone to read and wait eagerly for someone to like it or drop a comment.... :-P
Don't shoot me.
Today, it's Facebook, yesterday it was Myspace, and way before that it was Friendster. It's not so much about Facebook or any particular social networking website itself than it is our perpetual need as human beings to be affirmed that we are part of society. We need our lives to be constantly acknowledged for us to feel we exist. Granted, that need has always been there way before any of this ever existed, but I just can't help but feel that things such as Facebook has just turned that desire into something ugly.
Once upon a time, you feel acknowledged and reaffirmed when someone pats you on the shoulder, someone calls you on the phone, someone meets you up for coffee. Now, we post stuff up on our profiles and wait for people to say something about it. How many times have you eagerly logged onto your Facebook account just to check if anyone left a comment or a 'Like' sign on the latest photo or post that you made? How many times have you secretly wondered why no one has said anything about your latest status update? How many times have you gotten a kick out of knowing that so many people seem to be interested in the things you have to say and share? If you've ever done any one of these things, even once, you know what I mean.
And what do you make of people who seem to be posting something on Facebook all the time? It's one thing to have interesting things you want to say or post online, but please explain the need to update the whole world on how your lunch tasted, what time you woke up in the morning, and when you saw the Mamak dig his nose making your roti canai? It's narcissism.
I have this nagging sensation that it is the people who don't (or hardly) ever Facebook at all that lead fuller, more proper lives. I may be wrong.... but a good number of people I have on my friends list do not Facebook at all. They have an account, but they don't actually do anything with it. They are all busy living out there in the world of sight, scent, sound and touch... not in this virtual reality of endless 'like''s, LOL's, videos and comments.
I'm not saying if you Facebook regularly you're a hopeless narcissist. And I'm not saying if you Facebook, you've got no life either. Heck, even I do it. I think Facebook is fun. You get to share videos, see your friends photos and say whatever you want to anyone and everyone so easily. It really is a fantastic way to connect to everyone instantly. This was impossible 15 years ago.
But looking at the way many of us use it, I just think that getting into the world of Facebook is a little like eating junk food. A bit is fun. A lot is indulgence. Too much just makes you feel like shit and you get fat and lazy Whichever way, it's still rubbish.
Ironically, I'll probably post this up on Facebook for everyone to read and wait eagerly for someone to like it or drop a comment.... :-P
Don't shoot me.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Friends.. they do exist afterall....
I don't know if I've bee sounding a bit too much like I'm on the brink of amok in the past week. Every since I posted my last few Facebook shout outs regarding the church attacks in Malaysia, a few friends have come called to talk or meet up with me.
For the record, this is what I said:
"Pardon my french again people.. but.. WHAT THE F**K IS THIS MAN!!!????? You're not happy over a court ruling, and you don't like us using a word, so you FREAKING BOMB US??!!! I love this country and it's people to bits, but if this is how things are going to be, if this is how we as minorities in this country are going... to be treated.... I DON't WANT TO BE A PART OF THIS COUNTRY ANYMORE."
"So you believe in Muhammad, you pray 5 times a day, you zakat, you fast for a month, you do the Haj once, and you bomb churches at night?! God bless you..."
One group attempted to pacify me with lots and lots of durians (in a durian buffet in PJ) and lots and lots of slapstick jokes. Another friend called me up and gave me a 30 minute lecture on 'righteous anger', proper 'Christ-like' responses, and debating about whether or not Jesus would approve showing the middle finger while turning the other cheek. Another friend called from Australia and spoke to me for a whopping six hours (which was a personal record for both of us)..... but I wasn't sure if that had anything to do with my angry rantings or just an long overdue call to say hello.
And today, out of the blue, I just got my ass dragged out of office in the middle of my work day today by a friend who lives nearby my office. I thought she missed talking to me or whatever. Turns out she just wanted to check if I was OK (or if I've murdered anyone for the matter) after reading my statuses.... and upon ascertaining that I wasn't on the brink of murder, and some very brief update on each others life, I got unceremoniously shooed off to work again. "Thanks for your concern. Your mouth isn't the least bit sweet, but your actions certainly are." I said to my foul mothed friend. She was the type that did more swearing in a day than I do in a month...... "Whaaaat... go back to work la you..... and enjoy your final stages of single hood before your doom " came the snickering reply.
I slammed the door and walked up the stairs, smiling to myself. Not everyone is good at expressing themselves in words. But sometimes, what they cannot express in words, they make up for in actions... which are infinitely more powerful. Maybe this is just me being 'syok sendiri', I'd like to think that taking time off her busy schedule, making the extra effort to drop by to see me before crashing into bed as soon as she got home was her own little way of being a friend... just her way of saying "I'm here, I care." without saying it out loud. I'd like to think that if that was the message, then it was a message well received. And I was happy to think that maybe... maybe there are people that care after all. Maybe they aren't very involved in your life... but it didn't stop them from caring... and I guess the thought of that was what the smile was all about.
Everyone who called on me this few days were in no way friends in common. They were all different people I know from different stages of my life... but they all had one thing in common.. they've all known me for a long time.. the shortest being 6 years of friendship. In a way, I kind of understood their reaction... because as with the colleagues that work with me, none of them have ever seen my loose my temper, none of them have ever seen me come out so strongly and so vocally about anything at all... hence their shock. I told one friend it was because the church that was attacked was the one I was supposed to get married in. I told another that SOMEONE had to have to be the voice of anger and outrage, and since most others were either too afraid to offend others, or preaching words of peace and forgiveness, I will do it. Because I had nothing to loose, except the goodwill of a few distant friends. I thought "OK, I'll be the immature, angry, emotional one this time... so that other wiser and calmer people can come and save everybody with their message of love, peace and harmony." But to a few........I told the honest answer....... that it was just really me, looking for an excuse to be pissed off because I needed to. I don't know if they understood it.... but at least I could see that accepted it.
In my darkest thoughts, I often wonder about how much people really cared. The melancholic side of me constantly wants to believe that people don't really care..... that people are essentially selfish and self serving, that they only hang around you when there is benefit to them; financial, emotional, physical, mental... whatever.. it was only when you had something they needed that they come to you. And the other side of me constantly wants this to be proven wrong. That people do come to you sincerely and selflessly offering you their friendship without asking for much, except perhaps yours in return.... which I guess I would only be too eager to give.
So ya... I think I will sleep with an easy heart tonight with a renewed sense of confidence in friendships... and mostly... in people.
Cheers....
For the record, this is what I said:
"Pardon my french again people.. but.. WHAT THE F**K IS THIS MAN!!!????? You're not happy over a court ruling, and you don't like us using a word, so you FREAKING BOMB US??!!! I love this country and it's people to bits, but if this is how things are going to be, if this is how we as minorities in this country are going... to be treated.... I DON't WANT TO BE A PART OF THIS COUNTRY ANYMORE."
"So you believe in Muhammad, you pray 5 times a day, you zakat, you fast for a month, you do the Haj once, and you bomb churches at night?! God bless you..."
One group attempted to pacify me with lots and lots of durians (in a durian buffet in PJ) and lots and lots of slapstick jokes. Another friend called me up and gave me a 30 minute lecture on 'righteous anger', proper 'Christ-like' responses, and debating about whether or not Jesus would approve showing the middle finger while turning the other cheek. Another friend called from Australia and spoke to me for a whopping six hours (which was a personal record for both of us)..... but I wasn't sure if that had anything to do with my angry rantings or just an long overdue call to say hello.
And today, out of the blue, I just got my ass dragged out of office in the middle of my work day today by a friend who lives nearby my office. I thought she missed talking to me or whatever. Turns out she just wanted to check if I was OK (or if I've murdered anyone for the matter) after reading my statuses.... and upon ascertaining that I wasn't on the brink of murder, and some very brief update on each others life, I got unceremoniously shooed off to work again. "Thanks for your concern. Your mouth isn't the least bit sweet, but your actions certainly are." I said to my foul mothed friend. She was the type that did more swearing in a day than I do in a month...... "Whaaaat... go back to work la you..... and enjoy your final stages of single hood before your doom " came the snickering reply.
I slammed the door and walked up the stairs, smiling to myself. Not everyone is good at expressing themselves in words. But sometimes, what they cannot express in words, they make up for in actions... which are infinitely more powerful. Maybe this is just me being 'syok sendiri', I'd like to think that taking time off her busy schedule, making the extra effort to drop by to see me before crashing into bed as soon as she got home was her own little way of being a friend... just her way of saying "I'm here, I care." without saying it out loud. I'd like to think that if that was the message, then it was a message well received. And I was happy to think that maybe... maybe there are people that care after all. Maybe they aren't very involved in your life... but it didn't stop them from caring... and I guess the thought of that was what the smile was all about.
Everyone who called on me this few days were in no way friends in common. They were all different people I know from different stages of my life... but they all had one thing in common.. they've all known me for a long time.. the shortest being 6 years of friendship. In a way, I kind of understood their reaction... because as with the colleagues that work with me, none of them have ever seen my loose my temper, none of them have ever seen me come out so strongly and so vocally about anything at all... hence their shock. I told one friend it was because the church that was attacked was the one I was supposed to get married in. I told another that SOMEONE had to have to be the voice of anger and outrage, and since most others were either too afraid to offend others, or preaching words of peace and forgiveness, I will do it. Because I had nothing to loose, except the goodwill of a few distant friends. I thought "OK, I'll be the immature, angry, emotional one this time... so that other wiser and calmer people can come and save everybody with their message of love, peace and harmony." But to a few........I told the honest answer....... that it was just really me, looking for an excuse to be pissed off because I needed to. I don't know if they understood it.... but at least I could see that accepted it.
In my darkest thoughts, I often wonder about how much people really cared. The melancholic side of me constantly wants to believe that people don't really care..... that people are essentially selfish and self serving, that they only hang around you when there is benefit to them; financial, emotional, physical, mental... whatever.. it was only when you had something they needed that they come to you. And the other side of me constantly wants this to be proven wrong. That people do come to you sincerely and selflessly offering you their friendship without asking for much, except perhaps yours in return.... which I guess I would only be too eager to give.
So ya... I think I will sleep with an easy heart tonight with a renewed sense of confidence in friendships... and mostly... in people.
Cheers....
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
I quit Facebook... and I didnt die
I just deactivated my Facebook account. I did it on a whim.
Actually I was looking for the 'delete account' button. But discovered that Facebook offered no such buttons. Once you're in, you can never get out! I never realized that! I guess they assumed anyone wanting to delete their Facebook account is either crazy or out of their mind.
It makes you stop to and wonder about how life was like before social networking websites ever existed. And I guess for most users today below 20 years of age, they'd have no idea how that's supposed to feel like. For one, the most active place people communicated with each other was forums, chats (ICQ), and of course, good old fashion email. (Isn't it funny that emails are already considered old fashion when it's been around 20 years or so, while letter have been there for centuries!). This is probably also the same generation that assumes that by default, every 15 year old kid has a mobile phone of their own.
Perhaps I AM crazy, or out of my mind. I have a feeling most people would find the act of deleting your Facebook account to be unthinkable. But I did think about it... and I decided, I'm going to delete it.......or at least deactivate it la.
How earth shattering is it REALLY going to be anyway? Of the measly 187 people I had on my list, at least half were people I haven't spoken to or met in a year (many of which I've been contemplating to delete). Many others I've either met only once or twice. Some are people I know from work, others are relatives. How many of them were what I'd consider real life non-virtual-world friends? I think less than 20. And these 20 or so people.... they don't need Facebook to keep in touch with me. They actually call, text me, email or meet up with me whenever possible. You think the world's going to miss my online presence? Think again.
There was a time when this blog was all I had as far as online activities went. There were only 2 reasons I went to the cyber cafe every few days or so.. to check my email (which often had no mail anyway) and to just write my heart out. I didn't care if anyone read it (I knew there weren't, and if there were, they were strangers), I didn't bother about being eloquent, and I didn't bother about layout, or fonts sizes, or blog templates. But it was enough. It was more for myself than for anyone else. One or two anonymous comments would come every once in a while.. and I would feel like somewhere out there, someone listened, and shared my heart. And it was enough.
Things like Facebook came along, and turned all of us into self absorbed narcissists and compulsive virtual stalkers. There was a point in time where I'd check my Facebook countless times a day, just seeing what people were up to, and if anyone left a comment on my page. I'd obsess over which picture to put on my profile and only be too eager to post my latest pictures online... assuming as if people just couldn't wait to see what I had to show the them. I'd get excited every time someone posted a comment on my wall, or my picture.. or whatever at all. It became almost as if we have turned to Facebook to satisfy our sense of existence and belonging amongst others.
I think subconsciously, we all assumed that people would be interested in what we have to share... or at least we hope they do. Have you ever stopped to wonder if what you are about to post, whether it's a new album, or a new note, or a new wall post, is something your friend are actually interested to know?
I love this blog of mine so much more than I do my Facebook account for a few very simple reasons. For one, this blog is immensely more personal to me. I write a lot of my personal and private thoughts here, more than I ever do with even people close to me. It's my escape. It's my release. Secondly, opposite to how we approach Facebook-ing (is that a real word yet?) I assume by default that nothing I write here is of interest to anyone, except myself of course. It's not MEANT to be interesting to anyone. It's just meant to be personal..... TO ME. And throughout the history of my blogging days, I'd safely say that every single person who has visited my page (which is really really very measly trust me) came by stumbling upon it. I have made zero attempts at diverting traffic here. Someone once asked me why I don't just put this blog as private if I didn't want risk people I know reading it. Well, I guess, as personal as it is to me, a part of me still wanted to share whatever I had to say to the world, and I still wanted it to be available for anyone who wanted to read it, whether by fate or by interest..... or both.
To put it in an analogy (yes, I know I speak in analogies all the time.... but so did Jesus right? Hahaha).....
When I log into Facebook, I feel like I'm in this big giant hall, and everyone's in there. We're all wearing big giant hats with out 'Status' on it.. and everyone gets to read whatever you want to say. Our left hand is holding up a big giant collage of all our favourite pictures. Our right hand is a smorgasbord of notes, video clips, games, applications etc etc... and we're all just running around randomly and endlessly, having a quick laugh here, dropping a short comment here, giving our thumbs up there.. before moving on to the next bozo. It's fun for a while... but after a while, it gets tiring for me, not to mention lame.... and meaningless. Because there really isn't really a point to it beyond the little tid bit details you gain from your friends here and there. Oh, she's got a bf now. Oh, he just went to Cameron. Oh, he was late for work today. Oh, Avatar was awesome, but chipmunks sucked..... I know all this little bits of everyone... then what? Then what my friend?
On the other hand, with my blog, I feel like I'm in my own little flower garden. It's empty, but every single plant or ornament is a post I placed there with a lot of heart.. and a lot of passion, and I feel a very strong sense of ownership over it. There is a nice lazy chair in the middle where I sit, to either soak up the sun on a good day, or curse at the sky, on a bad day. It's my little garden, but it's open for anyone who wishes to venture in and smell the roses, or ask about the funny ornaments that surround it.... and I'd gladly and proudly explain each and every one of them. Every visitor came on their own accord (however few), every comment came from their own desire to connect with the gardener, me.
I think I'll stop here, less you start to think I'm falling in love with my own blog.. or my own self. :-P
I think I'm going to keep my Facebook account deactivated for now. That's not to say I'm through with it for good. I never said that. It's just that as far back as I can recall, it has given me no real lasting value, either in strengthening real friendships and relationships, or in connecting to people I really want to connect with. All it gives me is 300 meaningless bite sized live updates everyday about a hundred over people, whom I hardly talk to or care about. It HAS caused me to spend countless mouse clicks deleting email notifications. It HAS made me less productive at work, and it HAS made me feel like I'm connected to everyone yet still sorely lacking any depth in any of those connections.... which is WORSE than not being connected to anyone at all.
So at least for now, as far as social networks websites go.. thanks, but no thanks. Perhaps I'll reactivate my account again.... if I start to feel too much life a prehistoric hermit. In the mean time, at least this prehistoric hermit will continue the (already) prehistoric activity of blogging... which I will have you know....were first started back in Egypt.. thousands of years ago. What else did you think those ancient hieroglyphics were really about?
Cheers everyone.
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