Tammertron

It was pretty simple actually - I just deleted my account.

When I meet new people, the inevitable question always comes up.  ”Do you have Facebook?”  No.  I do not.  And 100% of the time I get a look.  The looks ranges from awe, to admiration, to confusion, to “what the fuck and how do you go about your daily life?”

The thing is, I’ve had Facebook forever.  Maybe not as forever as some of you, but pretty forever.  I’ve collected some people, but over half of those people I don’t really care for.  This is sounding like your story, isn’t it?  

What really happened was, something traumatic happened.  That trauma made me wanted to go into a shell, and not have to deal with the real world for a bit.  That included knowing about what other people who were living in the real world were doing.  If I was unable to participate in this world, you shouldn’t either.  At least that was my logic then.  

It became a bit like the elephant in the room.  Facebook!  Facebook!  Just click it.  I’d go onto Facebook and secretly hope that I didn’t see anything I didn’t want to see.  I actually had no idea why I even got on Facebook then, other than to find people’s contacts and to message them.

Prior to the trauma, my usage for Facebook was solely for creeping purposes.  I’d come home from work and creep other peoples’ photos.  But towards the end, I stopped doing that too.  I was sick of people who post photos of themselves taken by themselves, and however much I love dogs (not cats) and babies, I didn’t really love their dogs or their babies.  I’m sure first walks and the sound “maaaafaaaaaboooobeee” are amusing, but then again, not really.  

Once I started blocking people, I knew I had a problem.  This was prior to the trauma thing.  Why am I blocking people?  I have friends who take down their websites, block their twitter accounts, and make their web presence quite private when they’re job-hunting.  I have a strong belief that if google me and don’t like what you see, you probably won’t like who I am, and therefore, probably shouldn’t hire me.  It might be a bit arrogant, but I believe that to be true.  So I never block me.  Come see!  This is me, a little bit crazy but at times loveable.

Back to Facebook.  So I just decided that I didn’t need it.  Creeping people wasn’t a need, it was a “I’d rather look at some party photos and hopefully find a gem where someone upskirts, or I can read the Art of Travel which has been sitting in my Kindle for three months.”  So I deleted the account.

Do I miss it?  No.  Not one ounce.  Actually the thought of using it again irks me so much that it resembles going to a high school reunion.  People have argued that they use it to contact people and that it was just “easier”.  Sure, it’s easier to contact people you don’t care about, and vice versa.  The thing is, I’m quite ON THE INTERNET.  It doesn’t really take much to get a hold of me.  If someone wants to contact me, they’ll contact me.  It’s that easy.  I boycotted Facebook, but I didn’t boycott the internet.

That day, I lost 500 friends.  But the ones I kept I know are friends.  I know them, they know me.  We have conversations, and then we meet up and I see their actual faces.  I hear about this timeline thing and I have no idea what people are talking about.  I kinda like that I don’t know what they’re talking about.  

Not having Facebook has its minor inconveniences.  Some sites (which I’d never return to) insist that I log in with my Facebook account.  Well I don’t have one, I guess you don’t need me to buy that thing you’re selling.  Moving on.  Okay, maybe it’s just one inconvenience.

Now let me get back to learning how to tailor a shirt, while you… do some stuff on that Facebook thing.