I have no friends.
It’s because I have no friends. I hate seeing how successful and happy the rest of the world is. I often wonder what went wrong, as my life is not filled with wonderful parties, amazing trips abroad, clubbing or romantic moments shared just between myself and my SOH.
My photo’s just look too normal and real. Without Instagram I wished I was living back in the monochrome days. At least then you could pull a 10 denier pair of stockings over the lens to flatter the subject.
I remember improving pictures that had scratches on the negatives by rubbing my finger on my nose and then rubbing the nose grease onto the scratch. As if by magic the scratch would disappear.
When the photograph was finished I could admire it and show it off to those around me, but without the power of Instagram or Pinterest no one would like it.
I courted my SOH in Farmville. Ever tried holding hands there? As I tended my little plot of virtual land and she’d come to meet me and we’d stand close together. That was intimacy. We’d walk around and she’d be impressed with my homestead. Maybe that’s why she decided I was a man of means and good future husband material?
Now I’m settled and have no friends, I feel like I’ve stepped out of the matrix. In May I pulled the cable plugged into the back of my head and looked at the world again as it is. Luckily it hasn’t yet been taken over by a giant mainframe. A great deal of it is pretty amazing.
But the longer I’ve stayed away from it, the more I’ve realised what an effect it’s having on people.
As I have no friends I can spend some romantic time with my SOH, with it being just the two of us. It doesn’t have to be just the two of us, surrounded by a few hundred other people approving that we’re having a private little moment together.
I can take our older Whippet out for a walk and enjoy seeing her be a dog. Whilst she’s at it I can look at trees, boring, plain green trees without a high intensity filter applied to them. If ever you decide to buy a dog, you should buy a Whippet as it is the perfect hound. And although this Whippet did have a Facebook account she doesn’t now. I had to close it down as the bitch had more friends than me.
Well, I tried to close it down, but forgot the password and then couldn’t recognise any of her friends (as they were dogs, and in their hundreds) so it’s kind of stuck in the Matrix.
Having no friends, I don’t feel the need to comment on their lives or even to bring their problems into mine. When I speak to people I know, and they decide to tell me in person that they are trying to deal with a problem, that’s a different matter. But these people are in real life. They’re different. They’re not friends.
Having no friends, I don’t have to show you how well I am doing. You’re not interested in my amazing life, the fab meal I’m going to cook or where I’m off to on my holiday. You don’t need to approve what I’m doing. I can make my own decisions and have only myself to blame when those decisions turn out to be fantastically bad ones.
If I got hit by a bus tonight, and was mortally injured with only a few days to live, lying in my hospital bed with my iPhone beside me, taking my last selfie before venturing through to the afterlife you wouldn’t know about it. You wouldn’t be able to comment “stay away from the light” or even set up a memorial post for me.
That would make me sad, but then again, I’d never know because I have no friends.
There’s a great big world out there. It’s beautiful, infuriating, dangerous and very, very real. Take it all in, play with it. But do so without your friends.