Sailin' On

It felt good. Deconstructing my myspace page after reviving it for a month or so was the next best thing to living in the woods and foraging for my food; one less blip on the radar. Maybe I’m jaded, but to me myspace is the shadiest, shallowest, and dangerous place on the internet. I scrapped my pictures and hung a crooked sailboat painting in their place. No longer will I waste my time deleting emails from people I don’t know or denying friend requests from hookers and a billion unsigned bands that sound like bad music’s orphan. I won’t feel dirty anymore. Myspace may reunite me with old friends, but it also estranged me from a long time friend because her husband doesn’t have a sense of humor. The site just isn’t worth the hassle. I left a link to my blog on there and wiped all my personal information.

When some dateless doofus makes a fake Shawn Hornbeck page to harvest sympathy I no longer feel comfortable with neither mere mundane details of my identity, nor likenesses of me readily available to any lowlife with a mouse. Everybody wants to be a somebody, but I just want to be a nobody. I want to make friends the old fashioned way.