We are what we repeatedly do.
So I was doing a bit of web surfing today, as if I do anything else. And I came across an article that really intrigued me. It was an unknown author saying how their life revolves around social networks like Myspace and Facebook. Most of my friends know why I don’t have a Myspace or a Facebook profile. Don’t get me wrong, at first I thought it was a great idea when we all stared a Xanga blog. Ah the good old days of random entries and online quizzes. Good times…..good times. But to dedicate your life to a fake reality and depend on it as your sole communication with other just like you? Give me a break. Tiptoeing on the edge of obsession, social networking has in all, in my mind, gotten completely out of hand. Last year, I erased myself from the online world. With a few quick clicks of the mouse and a verification email later, I was non existent. I was missing, a lost child that needed to be found. In fact a search party came, in the form of many text messages ( ill get to that delight in life in a later blog) from friends asking, “am I ok?, what happened? Why!?” but I was gone, the whole online persona that I had created for myself; profile pictures, music, my interest and activities, all carefully thought to show case to the world the very best version of me. All thrown in to the recycle bin. Doing some quick research for my first blog (see below), I found an absolutely amazing quote by Aristotle:
“We are what we repeatedly do.”
Think about what you find yourself always doing. Does it describe you? I realized that those days of constantly checking for new comments, friend requests, adding new pictures and layouts for my profile, was not me. I didn’t want to be that. To think that if I continued doing what I was doing I would be one of those people I see walking down the isle of Target checking their profile on their iPhones, and if you are one of those people I am sorry but your blocking my way to the cookie isle! You cant believe the look on people faces when they ask me what my Myspace page is, and I crush them by saying I don’t have one, its as if I just called their mother a gerbil and their father smelled of elderberries. Come to think of it this no Myspace thing has really put a damper on my social life. Can a guy get a date with out having a Myspace?!
Ranting aside, I see this whole online community as ones way of isolation from others. The most common human fear is interaction with strangers, so they hide their true selves behind the colorful graphics and bells and whistles of an online profile. The mask in a masquerade that shelters your true identity. Maybe that is the appeal. The want for ambiguity is strong in the new generation. To be unknown to the outside world of what you really are. And yes I know, I know. This is a blog. I get the hypocrisy. But I really just wanted a chance to say that Myspace sucks! Ha I Win!
“As I sit here, keyboard under palm, eyes on screen, I try to remind myself that my hands and eyes need to venture out into the community and look and touch the truly tangible that lies just beyond that other big screen: my window.”
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