I’m sorry to be the bitch that has to break it to you but your sole purpose on my Facebook feed is to make me feel better about myself. Not all of you lot – just you (points at the woman posting photos of her children as they suffer asthma attacks on the way to the hospital) and you (family member who keeps posting passive aggressive ‘look at me, look at me’ posts) and you (bloke who thinks starting your statuses with “I’m not a racist but…” makes what you’re about to say okay). Yeah – all you lot, you’re not my Facebook ‘friends’ because I like you, you’re just there because sometimes I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and think “damn girl you really need to get your shit together” but then I turn away from the mirror, open up my laptop, peruse my Facebook feed and realise that actually I’m not the worst person to ever walk the face of this earth. Far from it in fact and that reminder is all thanks to you guys. Not once do I recall in my twenty five years, ever (and I could be wrong) donning black face, taking a whole heap of photos of myself doing so, posting it on the internet and then acting like it’s the least racist thing that’s ever happened in the history of the world (well yeah it’s not but it’s fairly shitty). No, I do not recall doing that. I do however have ‘friends’ who have and whilst I look at these people with disgust, shame and sadness, I also feel a little bit of affection. Not towards them exactly though but towards their sheer stupidity and general horribleness as a human. I love them just a little bit because they are there, as a constant and present reminder that no matter how dumb I am, no matter what stupid thing I do or say, no matter how shameful I was on the weekend when I got super super drunk and vomited on the window of the Apple store, I will never be so shitty as to dress in black face, let alone post a picture of it on the internet. Sometimes I talk about my friends behind their backs (sorry but sometimes you just have to let it out) but my Facebook feed reminds me that even though sometimes I can be a mean girl, actually I am okay (compared to some) because I have never stooped so low as to publicly call my former best friend a whore on social media (no, I save that for the stage…)
I guess what I’m saying is that life is a matter of perspective and my true love of Facebook comes from the fact that it is the most convenient way to remind myself that I’d have to lose a hell of alotta brain cells to be the worst person I know. Facebook is like watching the love child of A Current Affair and Today Tonight speed dating every soap opera ever made. A beautiful train wreck and I can’t turn away because ultimately…at times I’m kinda dumb, kinda terrible and kinda gross and baby I need people worse than me so I can feel validated. #SorryNotSorry
P.S I am 110% aware and proud that I am probably the person who some people keep to make THEMSELVES feel better about THEIR life choices, for those people I have this: I once went out to the city, pretended to be from the UK (with a terrible accent) and told people I was back in Australia for a funeral JUST SO THAT I COULD GET FREE DRINKS. I am a piece of shit. Thank you and good night.