I'm back here once again in the quest for a place where the sun doesn't pour its radiance on...where I can sit back and pour my thoughts out in a dish and slowly savour the exoticness or well, the deviant triviality of it.
So am back on Blogger...away from the rowdiness and busybody-ing of Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Google +. I will remain in love with Facebook...but i'm seriously thinking of re-uniting with my first love. I remember the peace reading blog after blog conferred on me in those heady days of Blogger; when you are sure to find a page filled with a very rich feast of knowledge, adventure and fun just by clicking on 'next blog'. I remember the days I wrote and relished the idea of coming back tomorrow to write again, not because anybody gets to read and make comments but because I log onto StatCounter to see figures of thousands stumbling on or visiting my page daily.... You know, the odd mention once in a while in Global Voices and the idea you are finally doing something, even though you weren't doing it as well as you'd love to... those seemed inspiring. I remember having a page where all my links were, my community so to say. I could remember tweaking my template and loving how good it looked; then tweaking again and losing all that made the entire idea appeal to me. I lost the links, most of the posts and everything that made a little sense. I think it was the despair that made me run away... and stayed away for three whole years. But then, that wasn't entirely responsible for it. That miserable job I had contributed too and like I said in a post sometime, that place...well, it was a hell hole, a prison of sorts. Funny, I ran the hole. I was chief warden.
Then I had to live my online life in a mobile device and blogger wasn't on mobile or maybe I hadn't discovered how to make it work on mobile... But thing is, I blanked out around here... and in came Facebook, the crown prince of the mobile web and social media. I lived my life on the go, so I had to embrace Yahoo Go and Gmail for Mobiles for mails, eBuddy and Nimbuzz for chats and of course Facebook and Twitter for pumping a little air into my crowded mine. MySpace woke up after the train had left the station, so I had to throw away the ticket I got for that. But then again, regardless of the incessant privacy updates form Mark Zukerberg's people, Facebook still made it seem as if the whole world was peering at you from under your behind... and at times you can never be too sure you didn't leave a piece of brown smelly stuff around and on you.Yea, I know, you're clean. We all are, ain't we? But you still have to keep your hands out of your pocket when moving around the men in shades. Not just the men in black (those aren't the actual threat anyway), but those who would come after you because you had uploaded a picture of yourself beside a borrowed Limo. Someone once had this theory that the more friends you have on Facebook, the more confused you are...and yes, the fewer comments you get. That's if you are the comments type.
The comments types are in love with comments and they easily gets disillusioned when they seldom see them. Thus, after a while the only time they answer Facebook's "Whats on Your mind"s question would probably be when they've been so bored and they look towards Poor Zuck for help. 'The non comments' type trudge ahead for months on end after making status upadates without comments. For them, I think it's about listening to what people around you are saying more than plaining running your mouth. Then, maybe not. It's never too sure in the world.
The lights are gone now and with it always goes the thinking part of my brain that's not too friendly with hot places. Unfortunately, that's the part that is writing now... In a little, the beep sound would be on, so I'm wrapping this up sooner than I'd love to. I'll back to do it again whenever.
So what was I saying? Should I quit Facebook entirely? Or visit my old love under the cover of darkness, while living the life of Facebook? Infidelity calls. And where best to answer it's call than here in my hiding space.
