I think it’s time to start writing again because I am pretty darn sure that what I have been doing on at FB isn’t writing no matter what I told myself – like, I can get ideas there and it’s creative in a way and I don’t get to see a lot of my friends so this is a fun way to stay in touch- while I work on my writing.
But I knew that was baloney the entire time.
So why have I spent so much time over there when the cost has been so high for me? I don’t have a cell phone so I’m not connected to the collective, I don’t have anything sassy or witty to say but I must admit I like posting pictures because that is fun and some of the quips on them are funny.
I don’t write those quips and I don’t take the pictures and the writer in me stands over my shoulder when I spend time on FB telling someone else’s story and she says:
“Anita Marie…what the Hell? Who wrote this and why are you putting their stuff out there? Oh yeah. I know why because a picture with a three word quip coming out of the mouth of a monkey riding backwards on a tricycle is Art and it must live forever and your purpose in life now is to make that happen no matter what the cost.”
And the truth is that is exactly what I have been doing.
However, I am left every single time I have goofed off on FB, with the certainty that if we were REQUIRED to go on line and tell everyone what we thought, where we are going, who we are talking to, what we ate for dinner, where we shop, sat next to at the movies, people would be freaking out all over the place.
But we- and I am including myself in that mix in a big way -are good little sheep and no matter how we see ourselves at the end of the day- it feels to me as if someone is tugging on our leash and we are obediently responding to that gesture.
We are listening ,we are telling the same stories in the same voice