I accidentally reactivated my Facebook account the other day.
Reluctantly, I was drawn in to perusing the feed. All my old friends were still there. And, for an instant, I thought, “Maybe I should just…come back. Maybe I should rekindle the old relationships. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so isolated and ignored on social media.”
I really did seriously think about it.
Then, somehow, I was able to call up my last post. My farewell post from when I left FB in 2019.
And I saw that it had gotten 2 responses.
Two.
It was then that I realized, for the second time, apparently, that there were no relationships to rekindle.
So, a little sadly, I deactivated the account again.
Not much point in reopening a door that had been firmly closed on loneliness and…irrelevance, maybe? Just to gain access to another portal to loneliness and irrelevance.
I get plenty of that on Instagram.
And here, I suppose.
At least here I can whine about it and be pretty sure that no one will see. Or, even on the extreme off chance that someone DID read, they would never leave a comment.
Yeah…it’s been several months since I posted here. I don’t think I have ever let this much time lapse between posts. I realized that it’s just because I’m completely overwhelmed by the events of the day. One outrage after another. Not enough time to contemplate and compose a reaction to one before another comes roaring out. And another. And another.
Too, having been a voice crying in the wilderness during the G W Bush administration, I feel like I was out there trying to warn people…with warnings that were not heeded. Even back then, when my voice wasn’t yet lost in the insane cacophony. Now that the absolute worst has befallen us—at least, you think it’s the worst, until the next heinous thing pukes out—I feel like, “What’s the use?” No one is listening…certainly no one cares what I have to say about what’s going on…if I even knew what the hell I have to say.
Well…anyway.
Just so anybody who cares, knows.
I’m still here.
