Requiem Disquiet

I’m not expecting anything else. People I’ve exchanged posts with will recede from my awareness, as I will from theirs. So falls the last sword FB holds over me. This is me getting fed up. Fed up with the illusion of connection. Fed up being force fed whatever the algorithm decides will keep me looking at ads, and subtly refining my digital fingerprint as a fungible resource. Fed up with the toxicity, cultivated for maximum reaction. Most of all, I’m full to the back teeth of my own intellectual and emotional laziness, passively scrolling, clicking, and believing my own lies. "They’ll know I care because I clicked a heart icon, isn’t that special of me!"

Don’t get me wrong, it’s more important than ever to speak against injustice. I thought shouting at the dumpster fire was one way to accomplish that, and maybe I had some effect. But fuck it, I’m over that shit. This month it’s time to climb off the fence dividing participation from collaboration. 

That’s a strong word, "collaboration", but it’s maybe closer than I realised. When so many replies come in to the effect, "I wish I could get out", I think I might be onto something. Facebook is a tool to manipulate you — you personally — with pictures of children, riots and videos of goats. I’m finding it easier to write these paragraphs than anything in months, having shed the urge to peek at little red dots, promising that somebody somewhere gives a shit what I said about BLM, human rights, bushfires or birthdays.

I’m a complete shut-in. The only times I leave the house are to attend doctor appointments. I don’t see anyone who hasn’t come to see me. Yet FB brings me nothing. So it’s time to punch my ticket and debark this hell-bound train. 

Here endeth the sermon.

I don’t have any preconception about how this blog will go, whether anyone will see it, or how long I’ll maintain momentum. I have a couple more posts in development, but they may or may not come to fruition. I also know that for some people, the mix is secondary to the prose, but sometimes that’s all there will be.

TRACK 01 "In Your Face," Brad Sucks INDEX 01 00:00:00
TRACK 02 "We Used to be Friends," The Dandy Warhols INDEX 01 03:21:00
TRACK 03 "Nervous Young Inhumans," Car Seat Headrest INDEX 01 06:39:69
TRACK 04 "The Execution of All Things," Rilo Kiley INDEX 01 12:02:66
TRACK 05 "When It's All Over We Still have to Clear Up," Snow Patrol INDEX 01 16:11:15
TRACK 06 "Sweetheart," Died Pretty INDEX 01 19:26:39
TRACK 07 "Me, You and Everybody," Gomez INDEX 01 23:35:43
TRACK 08 "Already Dead," Beck INDEX 01 27:58:04
TRACK 09 "The Numbers," Radiohead INDEX 01 30:56:74
TRACK 10 "The Four of Us are Dying," Nine Inch Nails INDEX 01 36:39:69
TRACK 11 "Confused Muscles," Telemetry Orchestra INDEX 01 41:17:32
TRACK 12 "Bad Wisdom," Suzanne Vega INDEX 01 45:46:27
TRACK 13 "My Shepherd," The New Pornographers INDEX 01 49:07:35
TRACK 14 "Avalanche," Aimee Mann INDEX 01 53:36:23