Once upon a time I strayed away, now I stay away…. from ”Facehook”

Facebook, the ‘great illusion’ has been creating many avatars of ourselves. As for me, it totally turned my life upside down until I came up to a full awareness of what this social media could do to us. It triggered a shift that I would never have envisaged for a second 6 years ago. Now I have opened my eyes on social media big pandemic.  Of course, some will say ‘Facebook saved my life…’, ‘ I got back in touch with people I had long-lost sight of…’, ‘I met on here the love of my life… ‘ Amongst these nice oddities and serendipity, I tend to think most of its use is tainted.

There, I will be talking of my experience. The latter might differ from yours, so what follows is from my own and sole perspective and experience we may agree to disagree with.


What do I believe? People on Facebook, are they just mere faces? Friends? A caricature of humankind? Over the last year, I’ve seen very few of my friends (I can count them on my fingers) – just one hand, please. Well, I was quite busy with my studies and keeping up with a tight budget. Still, I tend to think, FB is the perfect illusion where everyone can become a fake baked product of the social media’s Words/Sentences/Pictures/Videos. The binge recipe where all ingredients cohabit in a chemistry in disguise to create an
all-man’s- land cuisine, where we mix, blitz, add and pass on the grill. And there it is! You’ve got a fresh friend.
We, as human beings, crave for a sense of humanity, but the latter has become more and more amputated by the illusion that written words in these wall posts mean everything and nothing, just crumbling walls of mandatory coercion for covert bullshit. On their own, words and lovely sentences cannot replace a voice, a tap on the shoulder, shared laughter or physical contact. As a result, we have become lazy in friendship. Friendship is not shared on Facebook: it’s diluted.
I thought FB was a fabulous concept. In fact, it’s perverse. I’ve been there, I’ve done it, I’ve got blood on my hands too – I confess. The big illusion of connection, the big praise of the self to eventually become an hermit connected to people who can pretend being anything from prophets, journalists, photographers, thinkers, talented comics, politicians, commentators, activists, all part of a brotherhood of mind, but most of all, people craving for acknowledgement, reclaiming their existence through an unhealthy state of self-importance. (Selfie-fish and Duck-face-fake to name but a few of the diseases affecting this medium).

We have become a big pack: together we like, we dislike, we comment, we share, we empathise, we shout, we whine, we complain, we brag, we boast, we show off, we talk rubbish, and if none of these, there’s still the passive spying and stalking types. This is our world big comedy show, one I don’t want to be part of anymore, at least this way.

Now, on my account, I’ve got only very few friends and I follow the media that publish articles I enjoy reading. It’s a lazy way to let the info come to me from one click. I’m not even compelled to share or like – I’m at least free to use Facebook as a media with no interaction from my part but my own thoughts. (In case you’ve thought I’ve become crazy or assuming I have spent the last 4 weeks with Jean-Claude Van Dam, you’re damn wrong for both.)

For some, Facebook is the greatest way to connect with the world, a world that affects the way you behave or think, where the side effects of this virtual pill turn into hundreds of hours of solitude that can hug you like a million people crashing onto you… 

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