On this lovely Friday, I have been contemplating the permanence of my own existence.
What do others remember of me? Good things, I should hope. But regardless, memories fade. I will be "that girl who did ____" eventually, at least to most people. I do not wish to be forgotten, and it's long been one of my biggest fears.
I suppose this is what could be called an existential crisis.
My online accounts will exist as long as the servers are not cleaned out, and as long as the website exists. If Facebook were to go under, all of the pieces of my life there would be gone. The phrase "Pics or it didn't happen" frightens me because I don't really post all that many, and if those that ARE there were to disappear, much of my digital records of my social life would be gone forever, not to mention my only way of contacting a significant number of people.
If for no other reason than that my connection to so many would be severed I will continue to utilize Facebook.
Friday, January 26, 2018
Tuesday, January 16, 2018
This is my world now. Rather small, isn't it?
Ah well, I'm rather small, too.
There are so many people on the internet and social media. And I am just one. I do not live anywhere spectacular, or do anything particularly fascinating. And yet, I have eight hundred friends on Facebook. Eight hundred people who want to, or at some point wanted to, know about me and my life.
And here I am, on an empty blog that almost no one will ever see, and I feel much more relevant.
I know that every time I open a new account, I open one more pathway to steal my identity. But why would I be chosen? Why am I any more appealing to identity thieves than anyone else. Why are those eight hundred people friends with me rather than someone more interesting.
For me, this is the appeal of social media. It is why I continue to use Facebook. It is why I occasionally post on Instagram. It makes me feel interesting, and allows me to make others feel interesting.
Of course, social media is a tool. It is a sword, and depending on the knight holding it, it can fight for justice or puppies, or it could fight for injustice and spread horrible ideas. And depending on who is watching the knight, they will see it to support their own views, or to attack it.
I suppose rather than making me think critically about the tool itself, I think more of its relevance to me, and how it can further or harm my ideas.
Ah well, I'm rather small, too.
There are so many people on the internet and social media. And I am just one. I do not live anywhere spectacular, or do anything particularly fascinating. And yet, I have eight hundred friends on Facebook. Eight hundred people who want to, or at some point wanted to, know about me and my life.
And here I am, on an empty blog that almost no one will ever see, and I feel much more relevant.
I know that every time I open a new account, I open one more pathway to steal my identity. But why would I be chosen? Why am I any more appealing to identity thieves than anyone else. Why are those eight hundred people friends with me rather than someone more interesting.
For me, this is the appeal of social media. It is why I continue to use Facebook. It is why I occasionally post on Instagram. It makes me feel interesting, and allows me to make others feel interesting.
Of course, social media is a tool. It is a sword, and depending on the knight holding it, it can fight for justice or puppies, or it could fight for injustice and spread horrible ideas. And depending on who is watching the knight, they will see it to support their own views, or to attack it.
I suppose rather than making me think critically about the tool itself, I think more of its relevance to me, and how it can further or harm my ideas.
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