Ten days ago I deleted my Facebook account. I did it in a moment of madness and because I’ve been on it for ten years and it felt like a good time to do it.
Anyway, this is what I’ve done since I went off FB.
Arrived early for all my meetings.
Deleted 23 thousand million Gmails.
Baked 6 cakes.
Thought about sex.
Thought about writing.
Googled sci-fi pics instead.
And even though I’ve got like 1% of my brain back, I’ve missed out on so much. I can’t see all the online fights. Or dog videos. The photographs of my friends. Or the photographs of me which is really why I’m panicking, what if people have posted terrible pics of me and I’m not there to delete them.
I am the only one who knows my good angles.
I also should’ve left Facebook more dramatically. I could’ve been like the Ukrainian guy who’s just come back from the dead. DAMMIT, why didn’t I fake my death when I left Facebook. At least it would’ve been more exciting when I came back.
Oh hey, I’m here, I’m alive, just kidding, it was the Russians…
I’m going to have to go back to make a more dramatic exit. (and check my pics at the same time)
One more post.
Just call me Babchenko.