The trend is to say Facebook is a false and constructed reflection of yourself. I look at it though, and can’t help but think it seems to have a sort of objective sincerity. Transparency. Fact. At least in terms of “connection”.

I scroll through my feed, seeing my friends’ photos and can’t help but think, these people aren’t with me. They aren’t a part of me. We aren’t a part of each other.

The people with whom there was potential for close friendship have drifted away. They do their own things. They have their own lives with other friends. And the photos document every agonising second of this. When did the emotional distance become this overbearing? Is it something I’m doing? Have I flaked on so many events that I’m no longer invited to any? Should I be organising more events, dance parties, lunches, brunches, coffees, teas, shots, wines, cheeses?

And yet.. when I think back and really try to be objective about it, these lost friends have all suggested and not followed through with just as many events as I have. Is it, then, just an intrinsic fact that we aren’t meant to be close friends, no matter how many foods we both like, gripes we both have, or awkward self conscious similarities we both have? Is it an intrinsic fact that we aren’t mean to be proper friends? That if it were ever going to happen, it would’ve happened already? Yes. Yes!?

And still, there’s that nagging thought: there must be more I can do..


Grade A Goodness

Overall, ridiculously good evening.

  • Payed extra for work I forgot I’d done months ago.
  • Lift into town from a colleague that I always want to hug.
  • Intriguing and lovely messages from friends who could become incredibly close.
  • A meeting (over half-priced wine) filled with ridiculous potential regarding work surrounding information campaigns about children in vulnerable situations.
  • Hilarious dinner conversations and delicious pasta, ending with the waiter having to choose whom to give the last flowered bracelet in the restaurant – and not blinking an eye when he circled the table to pass it to me. Oo la.
  • Xe om home with a driver who lost his slipper in the middle of the road and had to drive back to get it. Ha.

Serata brillante. Grazie Saigon. Ciao Bella.