Dear Social Media people,
Hi! It’s me! Your Facebook friend! Your Instagram follower! Your Skype type! Your Twitter hater (come on! You know that’s true. There are no friends on Twitter. Just a bunch of people waiting for you to say something stupid so they can attack)! And whatever else is out there I’m supposed to be with you on!
It’s so great to hear from you! I hadn’t heard from you in about fourteen seconds! I was worried you were having a ‘problem’ after eating a pound of chocolate fried matzo balls! You know how they can repeat on you! (smiley face! frowny face! happy face! poop!)
But what I’m really here to say is it’s all a lie. No, no, no! I’m not a woman trapped in the body of an asshole. I’m who you think I am. The same old half sarcastic/half sarcastic ass toad you’ve grown to adore. The lie is I don’t see your posts.
And I know they’re great! And its my loss. But I just can’t slog through the hundreds of pictures of Minions a day with the oh so funny sayings to get to everything. I don’t ogle your pics of the granulated bacon squares you’re known for (although they do sound wonderful). I don’t even have Skype (I found their icon on line and put it on my desktop so people think I’m a Skyper). And I don’t see your observations about the world in 140 characters or less (but that’s on me. I log on, say my shit and skip to the loo the fuck out of there).
But the problem arises when I’m face to face with someone who says, “Did you see my post?” First off, what post? The one about the time you found a bagel that, if you squinted just right, looked like Drew Carey? Or the one where you took pictures of your fast food burrito because it was so damn tasty? Or was it the one where you gave your most intimate thoughts because you were trolling for sympathy likes?
What? It was none of those? It was one filled with insight and passion; thought and compassion? Oh, ah, yeah, I missed that too. Sorry it was so important to you that I saw it. Do you know how you would have insured I saw it? If you’d sent it to me directly. Message me, email me if you want me to see it. Don’t try to guilt me into missing something that’s surrounded by semi-racist rants veiled in the cloak of protecting our freedoms to the right and heart tugging articles about overcoming adversity from click bait sites to the left.
It’s not my job to know everything about you. As a matter of fact, I probably would like you better if I didn’t know what I know now. “Did you see my post?” is this eras lunatic on a soap box on a street corner. A shout for attention you can usually avoid by averting eye contact and crossing the street. To assume everyone sees every post is an ego bashing battle. My girlfriend has over 2300 friends. The last post she saw from me was my first one. And only because, back then, I was her only friend.
I’m not saying don’t post. Share! Emote! Smote! But don’t for one second believe anyone, much less everyone, sees it. Toss it out there, soap box the shit out of it, and be happy with that. You got to express yourself! Get out the feelings, emotions, ideas that were, mere seconds ago, bubbling up inside you! But don’t expect an outpouring of admiration for every meme you slap on. And, when you don’t get the attention you crave, don’t go guilting someone because they missed it.
Just assume too many Minions were in their way.