On December 2nd she said she couldn’t come on the ski trip; on December 4th you said you loved her; on December 12th you sent her a picture of you on a snowboard; on December 15th she said she needed to talk; after that there are no more messages; that was two years ago. Yes, I remember — thank you, Facebook. Would you like to send her a message? Well, not anymore.
For whatever reason, “Words with Friends” breaks down your social walls and opens up the floodgates for anyone you’ve ever met to request a meeting of the minds via mobile word game. It stands to follow that you’re not actually playing “Words with Friends,” you’re playing Words With People Who Have Downloaded The Same App As You, That You Happen To Know In A Tenuous Manner. Let’s get specific, shall we?
If we’re being honest (that is what Thought Catalog is for, right?), I’ll admit that there are people I’d rather delete than keep on Facebook/ in my life, but they remain because it would be rude to cut them out, and it’s hard to admit when any relationship is hopeless.
When away from the internet, say at the grocery store or in line at Chipotle on your lunch break from an office job that requires you to be on the internet 8-10 hours a day, you actually experience these consistent twinges of visceral longing to check your email, kind of like if you checked it you’d feel normal again, or satiated in some way.
The Sun Unexpectedly Beginning To Rise After A Night Out – Accompanied By The Sound Of Birds – May Cause Unexplainable Feelings Of Doom, The Feeling That One’s Life Is Not Okay At All And Will Never, Ever Be Okay, And Intense Feelings That What One Has Done During His/Her Night Out Was “Bad.”
People know they want to connect with other people and they’ve acknowledged, by signing their souls to more and more accounts, that the Internet is the way to reach this goal. This is why, when I opened up my Gmail account yesterday and saw the Google+ invite sitting pretty in my inbox, I signed up, all the while applauding myself for setting myself ahead of the social media curve.
Facebook helps you feel embarrassed for others upon seeing them logically defeated on someone’s Wall in a political argument during which unseemly amounts of nationalism, pro life beliefs, faith and/or rage are displayed.
I don’t think “creeper,” or “stalker” properly defines a person who uses Facebook to gather some information about a friend or neighbor. After all, even digging into the deepest pockets of a Facebook profile is still just observing what the user made available to the public. It’s not like the “Facebook stalker” is rifling through someone’s underwear drawer.
At the same time, however, it’s the reason I don’t talk much anymore. Each status I make is one I make with a certain amount of thought. No names are ever shared, no details ever too vivid. Passive-aggressive statements have been retired to the shelf along with goth make-up.
Have a full-time job. The routine of being awake by 9:00 is a crucial first step on this path to obsessive time delineation. No one with the day off ever wastes their day staring at a computer – well, no one as cool you you. You must be good at your job. This doesn’t mean being prideful and snobby about it, just efficient.