I wrote this for facebook.Decided against posting it there.
I have 17 facebook friends. Two are my siblings, and I only ever see one of those active on my page. One is my girlfriend, and she’s perfect. One is a semi-famous person I used to look up to, but haven’t really checked up on or heard from in years. Two are friends from elementary school, and only one of those seems to be around. Another is a friend from long ago, but we haven’t talked in ages. Still another is my best friend, but he doesn’t use facebook, so it’s kind of pointless to have him here. The remaining nine are from another website that I’m no longer a part of. Several of those nine people accepted a request, or sent one, and have been silent ever since. Overall, I have seven or eight people here to talk to. Some say more than others, but they’re all active to some degree. Maybe this is why I’m not that blown away by facebook. Maybe I just don’t see the point because I don’t have that many friends. Then again, I’ve never had many friends. Those two from elementary school were the only two friends I had between third grade and junior year of high school. My best friend has been so since 2007, even though since then I’ve only seen him for about a total of two weeks worth of time. And those nine from the other website? All that remains from the first time I ever tasted anything close to popularity. I used to think I had close to four hundred people I might call “friend” in that place, but things happen to show you who really is and is not your friend. It’s not that I expect people to hang on my every word, or even be around me all the time. I’ve grown used to solitude, and being around more than one or two people, even online if it’s for too long, makes me uncomfortable. I do feel lonely sometimes, though. I have my girlfriend, and as I said, she’s perfect. I do see my best friend now and then, but I worry that we might be growing further apart whenever I see him. I see my siblings, but they are them and I am me, and even in the areas we see eye to eye, it’s still from different perspectives. I don’t know. I think it’s still a better situation than having thousands of “friends” who do nothing but like your posts and comment on pictures. I feel like something is missing, though. Discussion, maybe. There are things I enjoy thinking about that no one else seems to like. Childish things, sometimes. Pointless things. “Who would win between these imaginary characters?” “What would you do if…” “If you went back in time…” “Who’s your favorite…” “If you could live anywhere…” It’s not just an answer I’m after. It’s an experience. It’s a discussion. It’s an exchange of impossible ideas. I get sick of talking about politics and religion and the economy, and pop culture and… *reality* all the time. It gets boring. It gets depressing. But those are the only things that seem to get anyone to talk. Sure, there are other sites, other places to be heard, but do you have any idea how lonely if feels to broadcast your thoughts to the entire world, and receive nothing in response? Or even worse, for them to be mocked? I’m not good at much, but I’ve built a wonderful world in my head. All the time I’ve spent alone has necessitated a world within me where I have playmates, friends, and adventures. I can never seem to find anyone who wants to share them with me. Some will oblige, for a short time, and then get bored, or distracted. Maybe I’m boring, then. Maybe I’m dull. Maybe that inner me is just not for others to be a part of. I’ve tried writing books and comics, but I’m never received well, usually only a few people even reply, and even then, I never get the reaction or the interest that I wanted. It’s more or less, “Oh that’s nice.” or “You write well.” I ******* know I write well, it’s all I’ve been doing my entire life because no one else will talk to me! The only communication I have is with myself, I’ve even had debates from both side of an issue all inside my head because no one else will hear what I have to say. Even this, in the end, would only get sad, half-hearted sympathies. “Are you okay?” “*I’m* here. You can talk to *me*.” Things people think they’re supposed to say. Maybe even someone trying to fit in to the role they think I’m describing. In the end, I’m sure such a person really exists. Even the people who are most important to me rarely ever indulge me in my musings. I don’t want to press the issue. I don’t want to scare them away. It isn’t hard to figure out that the only thing every failed attempt at a friendship has had in common was me. I get it. I’m not likable. I’m strange. I used to think I could accept that. Embrace it, even. All it ended up doing for me was lead me to seek acceptance in groups of other unlikable, strange people. Outcasts. Even there, I’m not accepted. Maybe I don’t want to be. Maybe they can sense that, and think leaving me alone is the best way to go about it. What if I *don’t* really want to be accepted? Maybe by now, since all I’ve known is solitude, I’m simply too afraid of venturing into the unknown world of socializing. But then, why would I be writing this? Why would I be craving interaction? Legitimate interaction, not just the fake of people feeling bad about it, or people agreeing with everything I said. How the **** should I know? I’ve only ever had one or two friends at a time. Even then, I’ve needed drugs or alcohol to help me manage it. I’m no longer seeing the point of writing this. I don’t know what I hope to gain, if anything, from it. Maybe I just needed a vent. It’s not like anyone will listen anyway.
Since writing this post Amicizi may have helped people, but has not within the last 4 days. Amicizi is a verified member, has been around for 10 months, 3 weeks and has 1 posts and 0 replies to their name.
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