Monday, October 29, 2018


Fuck, I think I hate the internet.

Some people flourish here. They have well-crafted, meticulous mirages. I can't seem to get the hang of it. I don't think I want to.
I have fewer real friends, the more "friends" I gain on facebook.

I can't even make jokes with friends . . oh, I'm sorry - people I once knew, but no longer do - in the comments on their posts anymore. I disagreed with someone I once knew over the semantics of a meme once, and that is all I am to them now: disagreeable.

They say, "well, remember our last convo and how that started," (I joked about some other shitty meme) and they used that snippit of text from messenger to inform their assumptions about where I stand on everything now. 

All I am is disagreeable . . because we have disagreed twice now in the years we've known each other.

Can you fucking believe it?

My comments on social media are all I am.
They are all you are as well.
Your comments. Your posts.
Shit. No wonder I have no friends left.
I post about things I do - when I do post, which isn't often.
I like to read, and play musical instruments, write, draw, and relax outdoors.

So most of my scant posts are that.
What a snobby bitch, is what they all think.

And this friend - this person I once knew - they only see me as the two times we disagreed online. They don't recall all our other conversations or things we've done together.

I remember first meeting her in person at a bar, watching local metal bands. It was a Halloween show. She was Persephone and her hubby was Hades, I think. I remember how my husband was eager to introduce me to them because he thought he may have found "someone who would get me." We talked about music and I listened to the story about how she drank with the bands on some metal cruise. I remember talking to her about things ancient and esoteric. I remember rubbing her pregnant belly and touring her new home. I remember pancakes she made us after we spent the night. I remember going to see Nile when she had crystals stuffed in her bra, cuz she's a bit of a hippy, and drawn to the mystic side of things. I remember running into a photographer I know and having drinks in the bar with him, where we thought we might run into Apocolyptica. I remember playing with her daughter and her dog.

She remembers how we have now disagreed online twice.
I am just so disagreeable.

Oh, and they remember how I said I don't agree with homeschooling. They homeschool their kid, so we clearly must hate each other now. They've been holding that one in half a decade. I guess we can never be friends again. I guess we never really were.

I don't even know.

I said how 'I think people should not be offended by everything," which means I am apparently offended by nothing. . . . and therefore am sympathetic to every horrible deed and those who committed them.

You can't make this shit up.

It's so very untrue. 
I am offended by plenty.

I am offended by what this digital age has done to corrode the few friendships I thought I had.

All I am is my few scant comments on social media.
Nothing more.
I am so disagreeable.

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