Fuck you, Facebook!
Our love affair is officially over. The relationship was intense and slutty. I was attracted to your silliness. I loved to send world-wide pokes to seldom seen friends. It was exotic. I enjoyed the spark of instant connection. I moved around a lot and it gave me the chance to reconnect with family and friends.
We started on a high note. You wanted to know about the Books and Movies that I enjoyed. You were interested in my mind. The attention went to my head. I was playful as a child, trusting and naive. I forgot my natural inclination to wander alone, like a wolf. And then you allowed me to review books online. This must be true love indeed.
And that's when you went psycho ex-boyfriend on me. You got clingy. You dictated rules that our relationship would have to follow; a pre-nuptial agreement stating that whatever I brought to the relationship belonged to you, and only you, forever. You told me that you owned everything I uploaded on Facebook--the pictures, the comments, even the lame instant-messages.
I began to dream of freedom--an Internet where I could upload freely, without fear of control. I learned that the EPIC (Electronic Privacy Information Center) was after your ass, threatening to file a lawsuit against you--unless you returned the rights of privacy to the users of Facebook.
You abdicated under scrutiny. But we could never recover the flames of our first fling. I packed my bags, hired a laywer and got the fuck out while you were sleeping. I dyed my hair and changed my name to Samantha. I drink with the boys now and sing in a dark club in Miami. I write long letters to friends that I have met twice that I will never send sober. And I haven't looked back since.