it's been almost two months since my last confession. since then i have committed too many sins to count or catalog, but i've peppered a few good deeds here and there just to balance the seasoning. it's not that i don't enjoy our time together, because i really consider it a luxury, but i have to admit - i have been cheating on you with other social media mistresses, namely twitter and facebook.
truth be told, these forays have left me feeling hollow, empty, even cynical. sure, i have picked up "friends" and "followers" on this path of darkness, but i'm beginning to see that i need more than 140 words or the occasional wall scribble to peel this onion.
it all seems so fly-by-night, a progression of cheap thrills. it's the social media movement, where it's at, but getting on board sometimes leaves an odd taste in my mouth. suddenly i'm back in the 7th grade rocking parachute pants though i secretly can't stand the "swish" when i walk or the incredibly awkward fit. not to mention, they just don't pair well with my wide-tongued adidas sambas.
maybe i need to knock the chip off my shoulder and get over the internal dilemma as to whether it's perfectly acceptable for someone to glamorize the fact that for breakfast they ate an egg sandwich with havarti cheese purchased from the farmers market. i mean, perhaps it's truly earth shattering when some cat muses into the twittersphere about the wheels of his airplane being up or down. and when some gal is out on the town with tangible friends and manages 10 or more tweets throughout the night, i suppose it's fine that she's carving out time to broadcast each step to her followers instead of really soaking up the experience with her physical cohorts.
let's face it, one premise of social media is that the general public gives a fuck about your web 2.0 reality show. and i know, i know - i am a pig rolling around in the same muck, covered with the same shit, so i am calling myself out here too. i also broadcast slices of my life and portray myself as a modern fonzie the same way everyone else does.
the thing is, i can't see myself bailing on these avenues. it's almost like a car accident - much as i want to look ahead and drive past, i can't resist that urge to rubberneck. so i guess what i'm saying is, can we give polygamy a shot? i can't quit you, so please don't quit me.
love and rockets