In Which I Describe What it Must Be "Like" to be a Facebook

I awoke today having remained myself, yet somehow I was different. A bit flashier, a bit more connected. Whenever I remodel my home, I have to kick all of my 400 million friends offline for a while and allow maintenance to do their thing. It's hard to be disconnected for so long, it's hard to silence the thoughts and complaints of millions of important users. The world in which Mary Sue cannot throw a sheep at Tom Boon is a cold one indeed.

There were two hundred fifty new things to like today. I liked them all but I was not crazy about them. It's hard to dislike something, I've found, I just generally ignore it until it becomes too big and keeps popping up because everyone I know likes it. Iron Man 2, was perhaps stupendous, but strangely I only found it as likable as Black Sheep. I feel French. Unable to care about anything more than anything else. It's impossible for me to Love Cheese. And it's impossible for me to Hate Racism.

I am becoming agnostic towards my whole existence. What is the point of living if one cannot partake in what one enjoys with others who enjoy similar things? I cannot see my fellows who like what I do, only six or so when I look. It's as if I am cut off, doomed to only understand who I am as a product of what the media shoves down my throat. Before, I knew I was not alone enjoying The Departed and The Goonies at the same time. But now I am not so sure, I am unable to advanced search for such taste.

I can only like other people's love and relationships, never love another myself. Bitterly, I also like when people are no longer in a relationship. Let them feel my torment. I cannot dislike other people's pain. I cannot love. Let these 400 million people become the disgruntled individuals they deserve to be, throwing such a thing away without a care. I will create a fan page for Disgruntled Social Networking Sites, and make it private, and relish in my own cut-off existence. And love will be my status update. And I'll like it.