The Internet Filter

I miss the days of dial-up.  A lot.  Why?  Because could you imagine it taking 5 minutes to post a status?  But even before that, imagine how long Facebook would take to load on dial-up internet.  No one would have the time to put up complaints about life but maybe would only have time to tell the world the great day they've had.

I remember social networking was a new thing.  Sure there were people who just want to post their tits or dick as their profile picture on Myspace and you had to be invited to join Facebook way back when it first came out.

Social Networking, I feel is more beneficial to extroverts.  For the most part, extroverts don't have much of a filter towards people because they are more open.  They feel emotions outwardly.  For the introvert however, social networking is a disease.  They start to view the people on the other end of their friendslist as less human.  With 500 "friends" you've never tell half the stuff to, you post on Facebook anyways.  You take photos you would never show the public, but post on your wall.  You outwardly complain and tag the person whose guts you hate right now because that person doesn't seem as real online.

An introvert who posts statuses full of complaints and anger are crying out for help in a way they never usually do.

Earlier this year, I promised I would never post hateful, spiteful or anger statuses on my Facebook or Twitter.  My Facebook has turned into a profile of me sharing my love for the work others do, for art and for good Youtube videos.  My Twitter has been used to communicate with the art community for which most my followers belong.  As an introvert, I can honestly say that I post things on Facebook and Twitter that I would vocalize in real life.  I post things on my blog that I would vocalize in real life.

I want to leave this message for both extroverts and introverts: Skim through your Facebook.  Go back to when you first got it.  See what you've posted, the interactions you've had.  Do you see statuses that don't reflect you?  Do you see older posts that you can't believe you really posted?  Take time to ponder what you've written.  Understand why you post what you post on your Facebook wall, on your friends' Timelines and what 140 characters can really say about a person.
The next time you go to post on Facebook.  Type it out, read it out loud.  Ask yourself, would I say this to a friend in public?  Would I say this to an acquaintance in public?  Would I want to stand at a podium in front of my 500 Facebook friends and announce it to them?
The reactions they would have happen.  So if you can't imagine the above, think about posting that status you just typed.

~Ame

This class is killing me!

So, they say deaths come in threes.
I'm beginning to think that's true.  After Thanksgiving, I lost my aunt to ovarian cancer.  Two weeks later, one of my high school friends lost her dad to melanoma.  A little over three later, my 8th grade math teacher passes away.

I read the book The Fault in Our Stars by John Green, a wonderful writer who lives in Indianapolis.  I actually lost a chance to meet him when I was a senior in high school but I recently decided to pick up TFIOS again after letting it collect dust on my book shelf.

Through the experiences that have been had in the past couple of months combined with two good nights of sobbing over a fictional story, I decided that death is a very sad thing.  We don't know what death feels like; is it painful, is it peaceful?  Does the breath just leave you and you fall into oblivion?  Does it look easy on the outside, and your brain screams on the inside?

I'm not asking because I have a suicidal wish but because people these days say a multitude of things that have nothing to do with death but involve some form of it.  When I neglect to tell my friend something he wants to know, his response is "you're killing me."  When you are preparing for a final in that difficult inorganic chemistry class, "this class will be the death of me, I know it."

I know most people through around the words death, dying and being killed like its simple, colloquial even and means nothing in everyday speech.  But, I'm not killing my friend by not telling him things.  And inorganic chemistry, while a pain, isn't going to lead you to your death bed before you finish the final and actually pass the class.

Why does this matter, Ame?  For about three or so weeks, I have been trying to eliminate those words from my vocabulary unless they are in the proper context.  Why am I doing this?  Because death is a sad event.  It comes to us eventually whether by old age, sickness or more violent means.  But unless someone is murdering you, they aren't killing you and if inorganic chemistry is not a deadly virus, it is also not going to kill you.

These are just my thoughts, trying to change the way people say things.