social anonymity
i don’t facebook.
the way i see it, if i want friends, well then – i’ll make friends. i don’t want a bunch of people that may or may not remember that one day fifteen years ago they shared my geometry book and so that should make them my friend now. or they remember me harassing them to keep their insurance certificates current in their lease files, so they should be my friend now. and above all, i don’t much care for having my picture taken, so if i want book with my picture in it, it’ll be on my bookcase at home, and my actual friends can come by and see it (and me) in person.
i don’t myspace, either.
the way i see it, i have a space, a home. in fact, i have several spaces; my home, my office, my car. these are all real and tangible and i decorate them the way i see fit and i sing when i want behind the wheel or in the shower – not on some grainy vid posted to some website. and my friends (my real ones, the one’s i’ve known and met in this – in real life) don’t feel the need to compete and see who should be in my “number one” position.
i barely tweet.
because frankly i’m still sort of new to it – and i have more fun following the tweets of famous people i’ll probably never meet, but by seeing what they have to say; the mundane, the “this is what i’m doing right now” posts, makes me feel, oh, i don’t know, maybe like they really are just humans.
the thing of it is – i like talking. talking and listening. sharing ideas, hashing out opposing opinions and compromising on ideals. that’s friending. that’s adding to the social network. and this? well, this is just me being, you know…
so not cut out for bright & shiny
