So… I finally quit Facebook.

Note: This is an old writing, but I want to remember it so I’m posting it. In respect to my past self I also won’t be editing it’s content, even though it is a bit of a rant. I believe it was written in the Fall of 2014. I wrote this after a time when I was only able to stay off of Facebook for about 6 months. Then I created an account again and the addiction was just as bad for probably another year.  At this time, I have been Facebook free for nearly a year and have no current plans to rejoin.

Viva la Resistance.

Date: Fall of 2014-ish

This is so depressing to write about but at the same time a bit of a revelation so I wanted to share it. Facebook has turned me into this vapid, narcissistic, needy monster. I have succumbed to its machinations for months at a time. Deactivating my account four days ago, having my fingers and eyes run immediately over the link each time I open the browser window only to feel immediately sad about the closing of the vacuum, I feel so pathetic.

When did I give something so meaningless such a level of importance in my life? When did I stop merely participating and actually become this? Is this all I have been for months and months? How long have I been sleep walking through my life? How did I allow myself to be programmed like this?

I feel like one of Pavlov’s dogs. Or a rat in a lab, running constantly to a water bottle filled with addictive chemicals. The chemicals are there to gauge my response to them, but all I know is … I just want to get high.

I’m so ashamed of myself. Here I talk of being set apart, different, drumming to a beat no one else can hear, and yet I am just another rat, another dog salivating at the sound of a bell. Perhaps this delusion of being different from others is the most harmful and divisive of all.

I want it to end this time. There are drugs that aren’t this addictive. I don’t want to trade this addiction for another either, which is why I haven’t been saturating my tumblr account with posts. Even as I am in the middle of writing this I have a sudden urge to check my Instagram account, to see if anyone liked my post or better yet, commented on how witty I am. Ugh!

We are surrounded by legal addictions that make us lesser versions of ourselves, ever focused on the high, never focused on whether or not the source is actually beneficial for us. The sad part is that they also ingrain in us a need for approval, a need to be patted on the back and “liked”. Visionaries and great thinkers have never required approval, and if you do you will never contribute more than you consumed from the planet.

Each drip from the leaky faucet is another that won’t be consumed with passion or relished as part of a larger provision from your consciousness. It is passed to the reservoir with the rest of the leaks and what has been discarded from the few intentional outpourings that were consumed, with their individual elements made full use of but the intrinsic value of the whole fading away. The leaks and the refuse, all flowing back to the sea of endless thoughts that added no great value to the existence of anyone else.

They say no single raindrop blames itself for the flood. I want to stop being part of it. I am losing myself to these things one drip at a time. I don’t want my life to be a fast leak. I want to stop wasting my time, diluting the integrity of my life by consuming and giving nothing back.

Henry David Thoreau said you can’t kill time without injuring eternity. I want to be partaken of with full intent to consume. Free of time sucking black holes, wolfing down my eternity weeks and months at a sitting. These things are gluttonous, fat, worthless, and above all… their hands are stained with the blood of our years. They add to us but a little momentary connectedness and yet not as much as they take away. Not even close.

We are becoming a hive mind. Individuals are being saturated with the sameness of popular opinion which has been earned with advertising dollars for the sole purpose of greed. I had 109 friends. I am one of one hundred and ten. We are 110 of hundreds of millions. We are numbers, and our numbers change, all roots and permanence lost on a continuous basis.

Even if I am enjoying the company of the other 109 rats, I am still a rat. We all are. And they are writing down our responses and readying for the next experiment. We enjoy each others’ company but in the end, we are still caged and being used for the benefit of greed. We are natural, organic matter being turned into machines, cold and uncaring. We animate only by the electrical current. We are no longer anything apart from it. 

I care greatly for my fellow rats, but I’m tired of living in a lab. I want to explore the woods, connect with other creatures and feel alive again. I want to stop injuring eternity. I want to focus on adding to the lives of others in a way that isn’t so fractured, so incomplete and accidental. I choose to live my life as if it were on purpose. I choose to be present.

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