i got addicted & it ruined my family.

it's time to admit that i'm addicted to the internet. and for no good reason. it takes every ounce of strength to not turn on the computer first thing in the morning, hoping that someone has sent me an email (library circulation notices count), or that someone has commented on last night's entry, or that someone has requested me as a friend, or that someone is on messenger with something important to say. the likelihood of any of this on a regular basis is zilch.

i have deleted my facebook account at least a dozen times by now. apparently, the online social network will never completely delete me. instead, it will "deactivate" my account, and once i log back in, i'm back. these social networks are a disgrace. i was one of the first to jump on friendster. i added maybe five or six people, and that was that. then came facebook. i added some people i took classes with, and then i never talked to those people ever again. so i deleted them. and then i got a myspace account because i was so bored at work. i had no friends, so i told all my coworkers and relatives to sign up. they did, and then i deleted my account.

big deal that your interests are music, thrift stores, records, running, poetry and biking. who cares that you listen to death cab for cutie, devendra banhart, spoon, radiohead and the blood brothers? and so you've read to the lighthouse, cat's cradle, 1984, and to kill a mockingbird. who fucking cares?

actually, the real reason i deleted my profile is because of a site i discovered called mydeathspace. basically, when someone dies, his profile is sent to the site and it is "immortalized" for eternity, or for as long as humans have the energy to run a server and turn on a computer. i didn't want to be remembered by the list of bands i was listening to that particular year. i didn't want to be remembered by the books that i've read, or even by the top 8 friends that i had listed. i prefer costanza's philosophy: i want to be forgotten.

yet, i still log on every now and then. i still search, wondering what old classmates, coworkers, people i once considered "friends" are up to now, more for novelty's sake than anything. i'm just as interested in finding out what happened to the teenage mutant ninja turtles action figures i discarded at age 10. what happened to that jose uribe rookie card i flushed down the toilet? how's my mickey mouse hat doing in that landfill? what became of my rubber band gun, or the whisper 2000? what happened to my x-ray glasses and my nintendo?

i think it's sick that i've made over a dozen trips to the thrift store in the past six months, and i still have things i don't need. i think it's sick that there's a target in folsom, in sunrise, in rancho cordova, in downtown, in arden, in west sac, and probably in other places that i don't even know about. i think it's sick that we can just drive a few blocks and find a radio shack. i think it's sick that we all know better, but we don't do better. this country, i think, runs on self-hate.

i don't want to believe that we are disposable, that we are replaceable. but it's arrogant to think that i - that we - could somehow avoid jose uribe's fate.

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