Friday, October 15, 2010
Today I am participating in a new challenge. It's a Friday link up and its all about writing. If you would like to play along, click the button above.
The prompt is you are stuck in the elevator with someone you despise for 6 hours. What do you say? This can be fiction of non-fiction.
So let's set the stage. Imagine if you will, that a website is a living, breathing human. This particular one is a man who stands almost 7 feet tall. Larger than life. His face as first glimpse is friendly and inviting, but there is something lurking behind the smile that is troublesome.
His name is Face Book. He'll ask you to call him "friend" though.
We enter the elevator at the same time. Our eyes meet and there is recognition. After the elevator journeys a few floors, there is a shudder and a slow grind of a stop. All sounds of mechanical workings have ceased; leaving the sound of our breathing to fill the silence.
The following is my side of the conversation.
We need to talk. You convinced me to join you in your endeavor a year ago and I am not happy with what you have done with me. In fact, I hate you and I am considering severing our relationship.
Why? Don't pretend like you don't know what you have done. You have forced me to open Pandora's Box. A box full of old relationships that were better left behind.
Sure. It was my choice to let them back into my life, but I felt like I had no choice. When faced with having to confirm or ignore a friendship; I had to confirm. Your choice of wording left me no option. I wouldn't want them to think I was immature enough to hold on to old grudges and insecurities; even if I am.
Stop poking me; I am still talking to you.
Daily I have checked in through you into these skeletons. Hourly I have found myself measuring up against their photos, their collections of friends and more recently; what they "like" or are fans of. You have created a way of keeping our friendship from dying by allowing us to tag photos that are shared across the internet of a time that should be forgotten; high school. You created a place for us to update what is going on in our lives right now, so that we can all compare who is the best. I have never been comfortable with writing what is really going on sometimes, so you forced me into a spotlight that made me lie.
Seriously, you want to give me a chicken for my farm right now? This is a serious conversation. I am not interested in your chickens, palm trees or a new couch for a imaginary pet.
Back to this spotlight. Does anyone really want to read that I am constipated, trying to balance the household budget and can't control my kids? No. I don't want my nemesis from high school reading about my struggles. So I write about how I am going shopping for the latest fad. Hit buttons that make me "like" the fact that my kids are the best and offer them a goat to get them off my tail for a while. Letting them see a "me" that shows only how great I am.
I hate you for that. I hate that you have forced me to compare and critique myself with my past. I hate the pressure of something you convinced me would be fun. I hate you for wasting my time with silliness.
What the heck? You blocked me and now I can't share this information with you.
Seriously? Come on! Accept my friendship again so we can finish talking. I'll give you a park bench for your new frontier.