Tuesday 27th March 2018
I am beginning a journal because the majority of this project is happening internally to myself at the present time. I will not attempt at this point to describe the background situation to what sparked the project, since the truth of it I have continued to obscure from myself, but will no doubt be fully explicated as I continue to unearth and erase myself from Facebook.
Sufficed to say, when I ventured back on the platform with the intention of deleting any photos that made sense, I had not used Facebook at all for around nine months.
I would say, in the year leading up to stopping completely, I had an addiction implosion which to an outside observer looks like an orgy. There's a point before a person hits rockbottom where the momentum gravitas is beyond their control, that desperate attempts are made to simply burn every bridge that could possibly connect that behaviour to anything except itself. This is done in the height of narcissistic fashion by alienating everything that isn't itself. Having used the addiction to destroy all other tools they had, the addict thinks the substantiation of the addiction itself must be the ultimat tool, in this case the tool was Facebook.
The tool was used; as a weapon, not necessarily to hurt, but to ward off would be attackers. As a means to validate sentiment, through heroic exclamations of strong feelings of gratitude, loyalty and relevance. And as a soapbox for intellectually shifting the paradigm on oppressive interpersonal dynamics. Many of these actions were viewed interchangeably by others in retrospct, for example perceiving loyalty and gratitude as weapons. Perhaps because the tool in the wrong hands is inherently destructive.
Are these the hands that will destroy the tool?
Those of us privileged enough to have internet access have a myriad of deep tools for individual, group and personal expression, and barely none for self-examination, unless the Medusian script is flipped.