Dear Facebook

I don’t like dealing with bad news.  I prefer to lay my head on my pillow every night knowing that everybody I dealt with during my day will also have a peaceful night’s rest.  I don’t like putting people down, I don’t like ending things.  But you gave me no choice.

I want to apologize.  For knowing that this letter will not end well.  For doing a cowardly thing of writing my thoughts on paper and not having the guts to say it your face.  For the fact that you changed, so dramatically, and I am forced to end our relationship.

You might be surprised to read this.  For you have been so busy with so many things that you might not even be aware of the limited time we have spent together lately.  It’s sad.

I still remember that first meeting.  The anticipation of something new, something original happening in my life.  That first hour together flew like a jet plane.  Oblivious to our surroundings, I explored every inch of what you had to offer.  I probed every aspect of your creation.  We shared so much, so quickly.  Maybe that’s also the problem.  It was so impressed with your connections, linking me to people I have not seen in a hundred years.  People I normally wouldn’t give a shit about, were suddenly exposed in all their glory.  It was exhilarating, thrilling even.

I was giddy to set up daily, hourly meetings.  Opportunity to share our lives, our parties, our birthdays.  Exposing my thoughts on life, telling you about my day, even reminding you of where I was every second.  We laughed at the same jokes and cried at the same heartache.  I neglected my family and my work to be with you.

Then you changed.  (Or maybe I did.)  I’m trying not to blame you, for it might be your father’s fault.  Your creator morphed from a genius to a dickhead right in front of our eyes in a very short time.

You were such a hit.  A huge runaway success.  You became a prodigy, something bigger and greater than everyone expected you to be.  And then you became self-aware.  An obnoxious version of your former self.  You started acquiring funny habits that hid your ideas like a heavy fog.  You allowed clutter to spoil your living space.  You forgot about me, and why we got together in the first place.  You wanted more.  You were absorbed in money-making rackets, gaming, shopping and so much other shit.

I stayed put.  I tried to argue that it’s not that bad.  That I could live with everything you have become, for I really liked you.  It was against my better judgement that I remained at your side.  And as the friends grew, as our sessions became more crowded you suddenly turned into a dustbin, an ashtray for social degenerate behaviour.  You allowed negativity and criticism and hate speech and all other forms of darkness to cloud your pleasure buttons,  a rubbish dump for communication.

And that is why I have to end our relationship.  That is why I want to kick you in the teeth and do a whole ‘Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind’ and remove your ass from memory.  But I can’t.  It’s impossible.  You might allow unfriending and I might never visit again, but the product of our relationship can never be erased.  And I hate you for that.

Every time I see you now, I am sick.  Every time I end up being bored and then visiting you, I see the hopeless and the desolate that you associate with now, I want to vomit.  It’s like an awful tattoo on your frigging face.

There is one more thing.  I have been unfaithful, seeing someone else behind your back.  It’s hurtful, I know, but you didn’t give me any choice.  You suck, you changed and you neglected the reasons why we fell in love in the beginning.  You forced me into the arms of someone else.  A place where I felt that I belonged, a place where I can be happy again.  And there are two, for you made me a whore, Twitter and WordPress.  And I beg of you to leave them alone.

When reading this, it probably won’t affect you at all, there are many others who are trotting around in your hallways, booking permanent residence in your rooms.  Maybe this letter will serve as a reminder of how great you were back in the day, and all those people who moved from like, to love, to infatuation, to obsession, to addiction, might still have a chance to salvage their lives and dignity.

So if you haven’t understood it yet.  Facebook, WE ARE DONE!


8 thoughts on “Dear Facebook

  1. I deleted my FB profile about two years ago and didn’t regret my decision. I felt my life was peaceful. It was like finally leaving a party that was good at the beginning but everyone turned out drunk and obnoxious in the end. Some friends emailed me and commended my actions. They said, they’ve been wanting to, but didn’t have the courage to delete their accounts. How silly is that? …. This is embarrassing to admit, but I’ve been sucked back in. I had to create an FB profile, because apparently you can’t make an FB page for you blog if you don’t have a profile. So I’m back because I wanted a page for my blog. I don’t really go on it much and don’t even bother to make “friends” with people (except for family and close friends). There are times when I regret going back… But let’s see how this lasts…


    • Well I’m on WordPress because my family is on Facebook. I specifically do NOT want to link my blog with Facebook and therefore migrated to Twitter.

      If Facebook drops the adds, the stupid games and prevent people from posting shit as their updates I might be willing to revert my decisions. For the moment…definitely not.

      Thanks for dropping by, and good luck with the blog, and here’s hoping you don;t get sucked in too far…


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