* The aftermath of today’s great Facebook purge. A shedding of my digital skin, a rebirth into a world less cluttered and more meaningful. A retaking of mind and space. Especially for someone, and I speak for myself, with dual identities and multiple personalities. Consider the possibilities!
Each click of the ‘Unfriend’ button was a release, a severing of superfluous energies that had been unknowingly weighing Me down. It was a cathartic cleanse, a detox of the digital kind. The purge was not just about reducing numbers, it was about offloading the unnecessary, the irrelevant, the forgotten, and the unknown. I started the day endeavoring to lose a *lot* of weight, without Ozempic.
Beginning this journey there were 1329 of you. That’s a fucking big number, right? Not quite as many as the stoners and others who attended my Grant high school parties at my parents’ Delano street house, but still, whoa, right? Now, there’s just 85 of you.
And oh, how light I feel. It was as if I had been carrying a backpack full of rocks, and with each ‘Unfriend’ click, a rock was removed. By the time the rocks were gone and my backpack empty, the relief is palpable.
The digital world suddenly seems less daunting, less noisy. It’s no longer a chaotic marketplace of thoughts, 20-something breasts, opinions, and cat videos. Now it’s a serene garden, filled only with the people and things that truly matter to me. Less performance pressure.
The satisfaction derived from thinning the herd is immense. It’s gratifying to know that every person who remains is here for a reason. You are not just a face on a screen, but a meaningful connection that adds value to my life.
So, if you ever find yourself drowning in a sea of digital acquaintances, remember my story. Luxuriate in the liberation that comes from letting go, from prioritizing quality over quantity. Because in the end, it’s not about having the most friends, it’s about having the right ones.
Forget the ‘Likes’, this kind of freedom deserves a standing ovation.
Digital Ozempic is now canon. May we all drop a few gigabytes of dead weight and strut into our clean feeds with pride.
Hurray for you! In November, I deleted my 16-year-old FB account. It felt liberating.