I find myself in this impeccable paradox; I am caught between two worlds. Technophobe or technophile? To text or not to text? To Facebook creep, or not to Facebook creep? These questions haunt me with each new man I meet and become infatuated with. There are rules to follow, and games to play, and quite honestly, I am exhausted from them. I am tired of trying to think of witty things to ask or say in order to capture a man’s attention with high hopes that he will respond in a quick and satisfying manner. Technology has taken over my life. I hate what it’s done to me. I hate it so much.
What happened to the days where you could talk with someone face to face? What happened to the days where there were no Facebook profiles to keep tabs on a person every second of every hour? What happened to the days where if you wanted to talk so someone, you could call them on their phone, and if you didn’t reach them, you left a message? (Okay, so that last one there is a bit of a stretch, but you see what I’m trying to say here...). What I am trying to get at is that technology is making it so much more difficult for people to have a relationship with someone. Technology is making people miserable. Technology is turning me into a crazy person.
Don’t get me wrong, I love technology. I realize I haven’t been clear about that... But I really do love technology. Honestly, the thing’s I’ve mentioned like Facebook and text messaging play a significant role in my daily life. These things help me stay in touch with friends and family, keep up with things that are going on in the world around me, and abuse my right to freedom of speech. The technologies themselves are wonderful inventions. The men who invented these things should get a medal, if they haven’t already. It’s not the inventions that I have an issue with. The issue lies in what the inventions do to me.
It’s because of technology that I become incredibly obsessed over men. It’s because of Facebook that I feel a false sense of closeness to a man who I’ve only met once, and am crushed when he doesn’t return the interest; and it’s because of Facebook that I stoop into a state of incredible jealousy whenever I see these men in question post comments on other girl’s walls or “like” their beautiful profile pictures. If it were not for text messaging, then I would not be in a constant wondering of what he is doing or who he is with, and why he isn’t returning my messages!
This is where my quandary presents itself with the uttermost discomfort. If I am unhappy with what these technologies are doing to my psyche, then why don’t I just get rid of them? The answer is simple: Because I can’t.
I hate myself, and want to text. I hate myself, and want to creep.
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