Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the life and death of a tormented lover, cruel friend, and paranoid stalker, but occasional warm blanket: social media. Amorphous, we knew her (and yes, she was most definitely too smart and vicious to not be a "her") by many names: Facebook, Instagram, and others that shall not be named... but her dissociative identities were familiar friends and foes to us all; almost everyone knew and had associated with her at some point since she came into existence around 1997 (I Googled it), although we crossed paths when I was around the tender, awkward age of the middle schoolers I teach -- at the time, she went by "Myspace." Myspace was fun... with blacks and reds, emotionally stricken imagery and shitty, local bands no one had heard of, it was like the dark, emo bedroom of my dreams since my parents wouldn't let me really decorate my stale walls (also, I was a different person to them). I put up questionable away messages with sappy, confusing lyrics on AIM, had fun re-inventing myself with stupid, cute usernames (michellephant and michelleishell were personal faves), and yeah -- that was Myspace. Myspace quickly became Facebook around my freshman year of high school, like the girl who tries going by her cooler middle name one year but will always be and go back to her boring first one. I'll never forget, Jackie Glass was the first person I knew to get a Facebook. How cool. How fun. Fuck Myspace.
Long story short, I met and dated weirdos online, went to the hospital once because of weirdos online, and met a non-weirdo man of my dreams online. Then, it was fuck everything. I got my job from social media. I got my life partner from social media. I went to parties in college from social media... I did not need social media anymore. So, I disappeared. (Also, I stopped my meds 😉) I thought it made me cooler, more interesting, and elusive -- in reality, no one noticed or cared. I even deleted my old college email addresses, because fuck everyone who could exclusively reach out to me on there too. Two years later, a global pandemic hit! I missed seeing people. Social media and I became reacquainted. I became my own influencer, and posted almost everything I ate. I went through obsessive eating habits. I re-connected (and sometimes quickly un-connected) with people I once knew and very unnaturally saw regularly over and over again in my feeds. I got angry at dumb political posts. I obsessively checked if the friend I fought with had deleted me. I started working again, and now- social media is DEAD TO ME. Social media, you are demanding of time and energy I do not have or want to expend on you. I feel bad when I don't keep up and miss out, and it takes too long to keep up and not miss out. Also, fuck you. I see why you exist, and the algorithms that keep people hooked, and so: fuck you. You've served your twisted purpose. For all of the potential good, there's just too much bad... it was a very toxic relationship, and I'm tired of running to the arms of an unkind lover. And so, rest in peace. You bitch.
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AuthorWe are Kieran and Michelle, two 32-year-old William & Mary grads living in Virginia. Archives
March 2024
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