Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Yes, I stole your facebook photos

The most evil part of the internet is way it helps keep the connections to all the wrong people. Any time-wasting or new friend excitement I've ever managed to gain from Facebook and Myspace and instant messenger have been outweighed a hundred fold by the harm of stalking around my own past.

Thing is, there's no such thing as a clean break anymore. Any two people, whether they're connected by friendship or by a twinkle in the back of each other's eyes, manage to tangle themselves up more deeply with one another over invisible servers and streaming data then most people are ever able to do in RL (that's real life from now on). They call it a web for a reason. It caught all of us up together and it sure as hell won't let us go.

I've nearly collapsed lungs running as fast and as far away from some people as I could. But twenty feet or two thousand miles doesn't matter anymore. The damage of sifting through ex-girlfriends' facebook photo albums is irreparable. Doesn't help that I broke up with them. Doesn't help that it's been countless years. Doesn't help that I wasn't even really that into them. All that matters is here I am, staring at the photo album of the old girlfriend with the new guy sharing something that we barely if ever (and usually never) shared and wondering why I'm the one sitting at home staring at a screen. Nothing more gut twisting then watching a girl and a guy flirt on their facebook walls, waving it in the face of every unlucky mouse clicker.

If this was a limited occurrence then maybe, just maybe, I could pull myself off the mat and force all the stars in my eyes to go away. But it's a high school girlfriend's roadtrip through Vegas to CA highlighted by facebook albums that include the Vegas bedroom underwear shots. It's the cutest blond thing you ever saw, left crying while I left for California but rescued in the arms of someone who fills up her myspace wall with more loving words then I could ever get to come out of my mouth.

It's the AIM name of someone still more than two thousand miles away but now also more than two years lost into my past. It's every time her idle icon disappears and hundreds of little flirtations and conversations and haha's and hehe's take place. None of them mine. But any of them just a mouse click away. Each one passing just millimeters from the information blood of my fiber optic internet veins.

None of them are more than a few www's away and that's scary as hell. Maybe it's time to unplug. But that girl from t he stairs in LA just sent me an e-mail. She's coming this way. Wants to hang out. Has new stories. Old stories. It's almost a revolving door. But the building's made of glass. Nothing you can see from the inside that you can't see from the curb.

Now this place, this is a whole new headache/heartache just waiting to happen.


Anonymous elginroots said...

it also makes stalking future prospects more easy. a simple crush on a mysterious man has turned into knowing everything about him and either liking him more or less after a few clicks is weird.

9:42 PM  
Anonymous hubs said...

wow, great post.

not to mention hot ex's.

i feel your pain.

12:01 PM  

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