Drama Queen of Fakebook – so where’s my crown?

I must suck at social media / being social in general. I’m taking it too seriously, aren’t I? Being too opinionated? Morally over-inflated? Have I joined the Legions of Butthurt?

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Well, shit… I think a little harder before I go on a ‘deleting spree’… I’d hate to throw the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak. And yes, I get offended when it happens to me because I don’t treat people like that. There’s supposed to be a person behind every page. Hands that type are attached to minds that think. Even though that’s not always true, I’m just annoyingly hopeful like that. I don’t accept requests from people I don’t know; it’s more about quality and less about quantity these days. I only have a small pool of friends under ‘Ilene Locke’, but they’re all there for a reason. The superficial numbers-puff doesn’t make me any happier – I know that now. I can actually exist without everyone looking at me (woah, stop the presses).

If I see a friend with the same (not-so-common) name create another Facebook account after aaaaages of being inactive on the other one, I spend a minute wondering why – instead of impulsively bombing them with messages saying “FAKE FAKE YOU’RE A FAKE” – and then I go ahead and ask what’s up. Yes, there’s another Ilene on Facebook based in my hometown. And it’s me. Well, was. Shit got messed with and I got over it (after a while). I have my suspicions as to who may have done it, but…

No proof, no soapbox.

If you can’t prove it, then shut it. Or that’s slander / libel / plain old shit-talking. And don’t we have enough people who enjoy that kinda thing? Some things are just confusing and I can’t always (but still too often) drive myself nuts assigning larger meanings to simply chaotic, nonsensical weirdness. It’s so draining, among other things.

If I see that someone’s linked to someone I don’t like, I don’t take it personally. I don’t have the emotional resources for it, and I’m not really sure how I ever did in the past. So weird and self-centred; I must have sounded like a total clown. Who likes being asked to take sides? Bleh. Nobody’s inherently evil for simply hurting someone’s feelings; life’s not so black-and-white like that. I may have known someone a while ago and decided I can’t trust them, but they may be someone else’s childhood friend. Or sibling. Or mechanic. Whatever. They have lives outside of their interactions with me. Maybe they’re great when their moral compass isn’t broken. I guess I just don’t like to be fooled twice by one person. Is that really so damned strange?

But no, it appears those things make me an attention-seeking idiot once I do something that registers above the hissing, bitchy static. I just don’t feel the awkwardness others may feel – leave me a passive-aggressive note and you’ll get your door knocked the fuck down. Say it to my face, I’m right here. If you’re yellow about your views on someone or something, then maybe it’s time to re-examine them. But a lot of people know I wasn’t always like this so maybe I should have patience with people who still think that shit can fly with me. But what exactly do I owe them? Why should I be bothered with it, exactly? I’m trying to look for the good in it, but I’m drowning in keyboard bravado, chatbox angst and pixelated pettiness. This shit used to be fun and now it’s just kinda fucky. Can I turn it around or… erm… nah?

I’m sure I’m not the only one to think these things, but it sure feels lonely from where I’m sitting.

But if I’m a cardboard keyboard-attention-whore wannabe overlord, then I’m sure I can make lil’ chalices out of dixie cups. Salut, my recyclable friends.

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