About Facebook

26th Dec 2009

Dear brother,

Let's take a break from Mom shopping 12 hours day, and in the end after all the paying I still cooked my own dinner, did my own laundry (and hers) and cleaned my own room. Anyway let's talk about Facebook.

By the time you read this letter, Facebook has become history, probably a case study in an entrepreneurial textbook or a geeky encyclopedia. But let's come back 10 years, right now it's a buzzing social networking sites for attention whores, stalkers (and people who fail to tell their friends they just proposed to their fiance).

The thing about facebook is that it's for losers, stalkers, and attention whores. Losers that don't really have real social interactions with people (due to 14 hours work a day, inability to comunicate, ugly faces), and yet they want to hang on a little to that connections that made them human. Stalkers like those who loves to hear stories of what's going on with other people, how terrible others feel, so to make their lvies less miserable, to feel superior, to feel human. Attention whores who posts pictures of themselves, stories of how superior they are, their so called half fucked artworks, to seek for attention, comments, and likings.

By now I access Facebook about 5 times a day and spent 1-2 hours there (hope you get what it implies).

It's just, somehow it's so much easier to talk to an imaginery brother 10 years later, or a whole bunch of strangers, than trying to talk to an actual person here in this country. Thanks guys.

OK, time to Facebook this letter.

(Anyway, side note, just read this news about a Vietnamese student who died mysteriously in her cupboard in her hostal room 5 mins away from where my house is. Some speculated murdered by boyfriend, some, by depression suicide. If ever I mysteriously disappear or die, know that I am as sure as hell NOT suicidal. Yes I'm stressed and I write dark and morbid-inclined letters, but I am NOT suicidal. If I do die, please be as sure as hell get that son of a bitch who did it to jail. K? ;p).