Thank you for All the People who Only Live in my Computer

If all my internet “friends” popped out of my computer into my living room, I would not only be traumatized by the fact that I only had enough coffee for ten of them, but I would probably be just a little bit embarrassed by the abrupt unveiling of my real self to a couple hundred other “real “ selves.

I can just imagine their confusion as they suddenly found themselves crammed into a studio with a terrified cat and a pajama clad redhead with acrylic paint on her her slippers running around looking for extra coffee cups.

I think they might become disillusioned and not want to be my “friend” anymore.

I think they might be as embarrassed as me.

I think that if I could see them in their pajamas, look into their eyes, try to hug them, or actually smell them, the shine of “friendship” might need some brass polish.

Some of my internet friends have made a great impression on me.

I like reading their writing, looking at their art, and hearing about select parts of their lives without having to share my coffee or my cat with them.

I like not having to admit they haven’t the faintest idea who I really am even though they send lovely e-mails, comment on my blog, and share personal thoughts with me.

I like that I don’t have to invite them to my sixth wedding and their feelings won’t be hurt.

I like that they live solely in my computer and they only come into my home when I am not in the shower.

I like the enhancement to my social life without the obligations of introducing them to my real friends.

I like that they know enough about me to think I’m really cool but not enough to know that I am not.

But seriously, I do have some trepidation about overdoing the “friend” thing.

I recently deleted over 200 friends from Facebook— then I just decided to leave it alone.

Scientists have done research and concluded that a human being cannot maintain more than 150 friendships.

Wow.

I don’t think I could even maintain 30 and keep everybody happy without risking social implosion. But I put a lot into a real friendship.

Not so much with the social networking friendship.

I think maybe that it is just an ego addiction for me.

I mean, it’s absurd to think that I could become addicted to accumulating “friends” and subscribers to respond to my every thought about what I ate last night, where I went to the bathroom in a foreign country, or my moody broody statements on the rest of the world’s activities, right?

Right?

Do you agree with me?

Please, agree with me.

C’mon, hit the Like button so I can get on with my life!

Tweet me!

Share me!

Tag me!

Do it!

Please hurry. I’ve got an appointment at Friend Addiction Rehab and I have to eat another blue pill before I leave.

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~ by leakelley on November 8, 2013.

2 Responses to “Thank you for All the People who Only Live in my Computer”

  1. No shit. What did John from downstairs used to call you? Was it “Joni Pajamas”? Because you have some physical resemblance to Joni Mitchell (and, oh, by the way, Willem Dafoe), and because we all lived on different timetables back in those days, your plaid pajamas were famous. So were your fuzzy slippers.

    Did I ever tell you about the time I went to the grocery store one evening with Owen and Helen, and long about the produce aisle, realized I was still wearing my fuzzy purple slippers? What would my blogger friends have thought? Probably something like, “God, I wish I could forget myself like that”. But, I thought of that experience as, “Oh shit, how could I forget myself like this?” Owen and Helen got a real kick out of it. I check now, before I leave the house.

    Great post. Many of us are out here are wondering the same stuff.

    L.

  2. I did like it. And agree with the last part of Linda’s comment — I wonder the same thing.

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