Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Middle Finger to The Facebook: A White Lights & Black Holes Missive

I received an email from a friend recently. She claims, with an emphasis on the "claims," and not on the claim, that she cannot write. I have long known this to be a totally skewed perception of her self. And so, in today's brand of Social Experiment gone ham, I decided to shock her system with a response. Not a public response to her missive, but a public display of it, edited as and where necessary.

Sorry love, if you're reading this; but I think you need a wake-up call. And the call is this. Woman! Wake up! You. can. right. 

Thank me after the noose is off my neck, will you? :)

If you feel the urge to, reader, do leave her a comment. I insist that she needs to give her brilliant mind a platform. Also, dear reader, if we are that friendly, you and I, that you happen to by some miracle figure out who I'm talking about, you had better learn the word.

The word is mum. Silencio. Silence. To the graves with it! Closed source. Shut up. Gob-smacked! As in I will smack your gob if you tattle. Like the hood, there shall be no snitching, contrary to which more force will be applied to your tender regions than can be physically borne. 

With love. And...now:

The Letter 

[Editor's edit:
To:          @french_freddy 
From:      Anone, Mass of Wandrous Wonder

Dear Freddy,]

I'm in one of those rare moods where my thoughts and fingers are in sync, so just in case I never get a chance to express this, either because I've forgotten or because I don't want to talk about it, here goes...

*switches off the radio just to write this; hmm ... this must be some sweet serious stuff these fingers want to convey*:

Item #1:

My initial reason for leaving Facebook was to test how long I can go without it. I'd initially made that promise to myself during Lent, but broke it; shattered it, rather. And it made me contemplate upon my ability to keep my word, because I've disappointed myself so many times lately - I'm not comfortable divulging the details right now, s'il vous plait - that I decided to not make any promises that I can't keep.

With reference to my Christian upbringing there is a verse in Ecclesiastes about it being better to not make a vow at all, than to make one and not keep it.

So I went cold turkey on Zuckerberg's bouncer baby on the morning of 4th April, partly motivated by a nightmare I had the night before. I can't remember what it was about right now; when I do I'll tell you. Plus my mind's propensity to over-interpret things saw that date as...special.

Special. It being 4/4. 

So I deactivated my account, and save for this one time I got a text from a friend asking me to check out some event or other, I have never looked back.

You should've seen me that day - I. was. RESTLESS!! I had cultivated this habit of checking my Facebook Timeline after every 5 minutes, seeking indulgence. 

From someone's status update, or a funny video. Or, when using my laptop, from chatting with whoever will be online at the time. 

I could feel the undercurrents of something being wrong with me, I just didn't know what. Logging off from Facebook, and living to see the next day, opened my eyes to my reality:

I was addicted to Facebook. 

It was my link to the outside world - to news, to events. To friends. To anything that will take me further from the inner truth that is inherent in my introverted nature; my propensity to NEVER tell anyone about my problems because I DON'T TRUST EASILY.

Granted, there aren't any Facebook Anonymous groups (yet), so I was faced with the task of looking for alternative means of mwenjoyo.

I turned to my e-books.

While reading a bunch of articles from the truckload of newsletters I've subscribed to, I bumped into so many books about personality - including the "Quiet..." one I e-mailed you [editor's note: which I am yet to read, tsk tsk tsk!] - that I decided to get lost in reading them. 

To this day I still haven't finished reading "Quiet..." [editor's note: pheeew!] yet I've finished reading 3 novels to date; a slow target, considering in Uni we were made to read that same number of books per WEEK. 

Because I'm reading that book intensely. Plus my laptop's dead, so I'm on a break :-)

I've learned a lot about myself from what I've read. Granted, I don't resonate with EVERYTHING that's in these e-books, but if I've not seen bits of myself in them I've seen elements of others' personalities described with such accuracy it's almost scary. 

I'm at the nadir in my life where fear's a non-issue - I've embraced a "Fuck it, bring it on" approach [editor's note: again, pheeeew! You're gonna love what I have hereby "brought on", no?] to the nuggets of knowledge inherent in these texts I've been reading. 

It's opened my eyes, and helped me understand the ideologies behind some of my actions, and others' responses to them. With regard to the latter, it's enabled me to tolerate my immediate family alongside members of my extended family, most of whom have been quick to talk shit about me without getting to know why I am the way I am, and why I do what I do. 

Telling me "I need prayers" doesn't move me any more - I'm losing my religion, a la REM. If you want to pray for me then PRAY FOR ME. Telling me "I need counselling" doesn't help either.

If you knew the amount of anger that's welled up inside when I hear these statements and the like, that has led, to the extreme, of harboring thoughts bordering homicide towards those who spew them from their buccal cavities. I came to understand, later on, why I've been having these thoughts:

I've been watching too many episodes of "Criminal Minds" 

So "Fuck it..." moves on to "Que sera, sera - whatever will be, will be". 

Live and let live. 

Not everyone is wired to have family as a support system, so I've accepted it and I'm moving on to seeking (psychological) support from a group of people I interact with on a regular basis: my friends.

Plus I'm glad I redirected my energies towards Twitter - my handle's been dormant, it was in need of some TLC.

In "Quiet..." Susan Cain talks extensively about introverts not necessarily being socially inept, but simply being overly sensitive to...stimulation. 

  • Verbally, it explains why I can talk a lot at one time then go silent the next.  
  • Visually, it helped me understand why I'm liking Twitter right now more than Facebook.  
  • Tactile, it made me appreciate why I have issues with being touched unnecessarily.
Which brings me to: 

Item #2:

There are things I have seen friends do that surprised me. No, shocked me, really. I would stare at them like I'm looking at the sky or a photo of a Picasso painting - blankly. How some of them are my friends to this day is a humbling point for me, because I've said really cold things and they still have my back.

I have heard the "Oh you would both make such a cute couple" narrative, by the way [editor's note: haven't we all? No? Maybe just me then]. "You're both so smart, and have so much in common." 

I am telling you all this to get it off my chest, lest it festers into a pneumatic infection. And because you seem to be branching away from the romantic optimists - good for them by the way, and me, because my realistic nature needs such when I need to get away mentally. 

2013 is the year I'm focusing on me - Quality over Quantity:

  1. I lost weight because I significantly reduced my intake of junk food (I last had your favourite snack in September 2012).
  2. Switching off my phone when I'm reading or before I go to bed helps me concentrate on the content and on getting sufficient rest, respectively.
  3. Getting off Facebook has diverted my focus from the need to attend to 800 odd people because they're in my Friends List, to those I regard as my bosom friends who I communicate with via e-mail, Skype, call or SMS. 
So...so far Freddy I can say that I feel the slow but steady inflow of peace in my being. And I'm loving it!! Being alive rocks! 

Item #3:

You know I love you like I love myself - and you know that I love myself A LOT [editor's note: I'm counting on you remembering those words when you see these words published].  

So I was quite concerned when I saw you smoking again [editor's note: shit. now everybody knows] and especially when you said you're smoking again A LOT. Wallahi I can hunt down that Irrationality Switch I lost in some section of my brain, and start going HAM on you and yours like those chicks on Gossip Girl. 

If nicotine is what gets your juices flowing, then...do what you must. 

*shrugs shoulders* 

But let no one, NO ONE, even me, ever influence your decisions to give up on stuff that's going to mess up your health, physically and mentally. 

While I'm on a mothering note please note that I need God-papa to stay on this earth for more years, to tell my children good things about me. Though we will NEVER tell them about the things that went down in their grandfather's car in 2012 - we shall DIE with that info! [editor's note: especially how I lost my phone that night...]

[editor's note:

Anone, Mass of Wandrous Wonder]

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