The Year I Quit Facebook



5 minutes before midnight yesterday– New Year’s Eve– a thought struck my head so hard, I could have sworn my head almost flew off.

I was going to quit Facebook.

The social media that I have been residing myself since I was 12 years old, my source of procrastination communication, of entertainment, and of many other things. I could not imagine it going out the window, with only one click under my finger. It seemed surreal, that my subsconscience finally has the gut to rise from underneath, and fight the status quo that I have been trying to fit myself in.

But I did it.

“Are you sure you want to deactiva–” YES I DO, AND I DID.

It’s funny how not having social media in the year 2014/2015 is abnormal. People think you are not up-to-date with what the world is up to, that you are old-fashioned, and most of all, not trendy. Not possessing multiple social media is synonymous to the reluctance of networking with other people. That is not always the case, in my opinion.

Social media, particularly Facebook, are where people present their best selves to the world. They go to parties, wear their best outfits, put on their best makeup; they take “selfies” with other people and condense all of those things in one single status update and show off to the world. The next process is crucial to the poster– the process in which to determine if people care about that post or not. The amount of “likes” and “comments” are, unfortunately, the factors that determine one’s self-esteem on the virtual platform. People become disappointed and unmotivated if their posts do not get much likes; on the other hand, they are filled with confidence if that post does.

In my case, I rarely post on Facebook. I’m that type of person that only lurks (a lot) on a day-to-day basis because I thought I had nothing else to do. I’m not easily discouraged if my one of my rare posts have no likes, but I grow tired of those who complain about that problem. That’s what people do: they don’t put up with it, nor deal with the problem. They complain about it to other people, spreading the negativity around like a virus.

I don’t know how much time I have wasted, just browsing on Facebook, scrolling endless miles on the plain, white sheet, filled with duckfaces and 7-second cat videos. I was not entertained. Nor I was educated. What was the point of “just browsing” then?

Facebook is also like a court room, just that 570 acquaintances UM sorry *cough* incorrect terminology  friends are being displayed quite vulgarly. They become raw, and so overly exposed to the world. Most of all, they are being judged. Social media creates a false image of a person, due to the limitations of some of the senses, like hearing, speaking, even smelling. I know, as you are reading this post right now, you can probably find the irony. You, reader, don’t know me, as much as my friends on Facebook don’t know me. What advantage you have over them is that you know I can write, and I have the guts to write. Facebook limits me from writing long posts like these, due to the fact that they think you are pretentious, overly talkative, eager to gain attention blah blah.

The need for other people to find out about my personal life has subsided. Those who know me in real life knows who I am like. Those who know me better through Facebook and other social media– I am sorry, but I change myself everyday. Facebook does not have the capacity to keep up with those changes that I go through. I create my own world; the (literally) virtual circle of friends online does not determine who I am.

This is 2015, the year I quit Facebook.


A Random Thought



If you think about it, we’re made up of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and a whole bunch of other stuff, intertwined into each other by forces we theorize.

Along with that, we are also made up of irrelevant philosophical thoughts and psychological issues of isolation and loneliness and misanthropy and A LOT OF CAFFEINE.

I am mine. I am a mine. I am an emotional mine that can explode brighter and louder than Hiroshima and Nagasaki combined if something steps on it. Or someone. My mind is a mine. MINE. BLOWING.

School is killing my creativity.