I. Delete. Your. FACEBOOK. Thing is: I’m a misanthrope. Okay. So there’s that. But I do have genuine fondness and sometimes even love for people. So there’s that, too. But but but. If I log onto my computer, open Chrome, say, and shift through my bookmarks, I may end up on that newly privacy-free site the kids love: Facebook. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll happen to see certain acquaintances, confreres, if you will, from my old college days (= last year). That could happen, sure sure, and maybe my first reaction will be “FFFUUUUU” and then “I’ve seen your [your = random annoying person whom I barely know but am friends with cause the internet told me to’s] status updates one too many times!: you go squish now!” And [x] they’re gone. Not at all cause I hate them, or cause I hated time spent with them, but, rather this: If I am to see you in this life, and I am to encounter what you do, pixelated or no, I want it to be golden. I’d rather see some random dude rarely and enjoy that exchange (again: whether through a computer screen or on the … what do they call them again? streets!), than see them persistently pop into my life and have me grow weary just thinking about it. Unless the person I’m thinking of is someone I love (love love love = care about or feel concern for or genuinely hear fireworks when I think of whomever it is), I don’t want the wear of repetition to turn what could be brief and lovely into dross. Maybe I (and we all) grow weary of those we love, too. I don’t know. Frankly, I don’t want to know. (Actually, I do. But that was too good a quote to give up. … a REBLOG to anyone who can name that episode!) I do know: I’d rather feel kindly toward [x] than continually and pissed-off-ly dismiss whatever they share (on the internet or in perzon) with me. And if that means less frequency in encounters, then I’m down with that. Meanwhile: (1) Can cigarettes please stop telling me my babies will be killed!? I haz no babby-s. (2) It’s cold as my heart out. Me to Anthony: “Deal with it.” Srsly. A reblog.

I. Delete. Your. FACEBOOK.

Thing is: I’m a misanthrope. Okay. So there’s that. But I do have genuine fondness and sometimes even love for people. So there’s that, too. But but but. If I log onto my computer, open Chrome, say, and shift through my bookmarks, I may end up on that newly privacy-free site the kids love: Facebook. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll happen to see certain acquaintances, confreres, if you will, from my old college days (= last year). That could happen, sure sure, and maybe my first reaction will be “FFFUUUUU” and then “I’ve seen your [your = random annoying person whom I barely know but am friends with cause the internet told me to’s] status updates one too many times!: you go squish now!” And [x] they’re gone.

Not at all cause I hate them, or cause I hated time spent with them, but, rather this:

If I am to see you in this life, and I am to encounter what you do, pixelated or no, I want it to be golden. I’d rather see some random dude rarely and enjoy that exchange (again: whether through a computer screen or on the … what do they call them again? streets!), than see them persistently pop into my life and have me grow weary just thinking about it.

Unless the person I’m thinking of is someone I love (love love love = care about or feel concern for or genuinely hear fireworks when I think of whomever it is), I don’t want the wear of repetition to turn what could be brief and lovely into dross. Maybe I (and we all) grow weary of those we love, too. I don’t know. Frankly, I don’t want to know. (Actually, I do. But that was too good a quote to give up. … a REBLOG to anyone who can name that episode!) I do know: I’d rather feel kindly toward [x] than continually and pissed-off-ly dismiss whatever they share (on the internet or in perzon) with me. And if that means less frequency in encounters, then I’m down with that.

Meanwhile: (1) Can cigarettes please stop telling me my babies will be killed!? I haz no babby-s. (2) It’s cold as my heart out. Me to Anthony: “Deal with it.”

Srsly. A reblog.