I've been on and off social media for several years now. First, because I'm not social whatsoever, even through a computer. Secondly, because I get requests from people I don't really want around and, like probably 90% of people, I have to take them onboard anyway, for various reasons. At my age (49), I've mostly set myself free from the burden of hypocrisy. So it's a very uncomfortable position...
I do appreciate some people here and there, IG and FB, but in the end, after a few months, I can't resist the pleasure of deleting my account and sending all this to hell. Running away free (and alone) is my thing.
Another reason why it's becoming harder to keep an account on those damn social media is the fact that many of the people I know have started to die. They're my age... It's people I've known since we were teenagers. We were in the same band. We were in the same school. We listened to the same music at the same time. We belonged to the same era. We shared a time now frozen.
All those I knew in the past, they're a "group". And seeing them pass away suddenly feels bizarre. Taking out bricks from a standing wall, why would you do that? Now I can't help thinking "who's next?". Is it already the start of the end?
It's highly disturbing to me, this macabre counting we're all in. No way to escape. It's all already decided, already written, and you're the only one not to know about it. And it's frightening to realize that "our" countdown is on now. It has started.
I had kept a "dormant" account on FB, with no friends at all, and I reactivated it a few weeks ago as I had to contact a company that wouldn't reply via mail (French company, happens quite often...). A few days later, I was scrolling down randomly and I stumbled on one picture posted by a friend who runs a public page. Picture of himself with another friend and a very short "Farewell my friend, I can't find the words" with 6 black hearts. It's always hard to believe. That's what all "the other ones" said and I agree.
So I quickly started adding a few friends there, just to make sure I got the news right. And I saw how devastated people who knew the deceased were. Obviously, he was already deeply missed.
I must admit I was shocked and somehow, moved. But after a while I've realized the reason behind those feelings. It was not because I had lost a dear friend. To say the truth, I had pretty harsh memories of him. Maybe he had changed with time, got better. I was told some do...
But for me, selfishly as usual, it was more about starting a macabre countdown and having to admit that our age group is now closer to the end than the beginning. I know, it's the same for everyone, but we are keeping ourselves more or less aware of it. I'm trying not to think too much about it. I'm more frightened of aging badly and getting sick, than dying "in se". This, the process of decaying without being able to do anything to stop or reverse it, I probably think way too much about. I's on a daily basis. An obsession. I'm no optimist. I've been raised by people who wouldn't care and let the worst happen. So how could I reasonably think good things can happen?
They say he loved life. I think he made the most of it in the short amount time he had. That's the point. I can't really feel sad when I draw such a conclusion.
Hope your next life will bring you as much as that one did, Fred.