I don’t think I can face Facebook

Admit it, you’ve masturbated, and you enjoyed it. Then there are the times you didn’t. Enjoy, it.

That’s how I feel about Facebook.

‘There is,’ as Gertude Stein said, ‘no there there.’

The mental impact is a hook, bright flashing lights, people are interested in what I have to say, blah, blah, blah. The rush, let’s just say I’ve heard it’s similar to freebasing cocaine, not that I’ve ever done such a thing, but I’ve heard.

Tiny fragments of my self are all that are left though after 10 minutes. Like smashed glass, silver bright slivers that get under my skin, and give nothing but pain.

I don’t think I can face facebook. Not really.

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