Why I’m not on Facebook:

I don’t want to know that your status has changed since I didn’t know what your status was or, in fact, that you even had any status before.

Nevertheless, I am concerned that your status could be higher than my status, if I had one.

Furthermore, I don’t want to feel obligated to update my status when my status hasn’t changed since we moved to a new status 29 years ago, into a nice little garden apartment.

I am worried that I would spend too much time aimlessly on Facebook and forget to spend more time aimlessly searching the Web.

I am not interested in what you or anyone else really thinks about the movies I have not seen, music I have not heard and burritos I have not eaten.

I don’t want to finally hear from the guy who sat behind me in seventh-grade social studies class and has, apparently, been looking ever since then for how to get in touch with me.

I, in turn, don’t want to try to reconnect with the guy who sat behind me in seventh-grade social studies class and have to finally explain why I somehow may have accidentally misappropriated his lunch box.

I’m not sure I want friends whom I’ve never met. I prefer strangers I’ve never met.

I hate reading anyone’s profile who isn’t me. Particularly if they have won a Nobel Peace Prize and I still haven’t.

I will feel pressured to constantly update my “friends” on interesting things I am doing even though I am not doing any interesting things. Because I am not doing any interesting things, I fear I will have to invent interesting things, telling all my “friends” that I have been abducted for ransom by Somali pirates and asking them to contribute whatever they can or at least become a sustainer and eligible for a free trip to Paris.

I don’t want to read the profile of someone who has published a novel, completed a sonata and trekked across Antarctica and is still only 22 years of age.

I don’t want anyone to know that I haven’t completed a sonata yet. Or know, precisely, what a sonata is.

I don’t want to keep up with friends I haven’t kept up with in 43 years. If I had wanted to keep up with them, I probably would have written them a note by now or at least run into them in the supermarket.

I don’t like using the word “friend” as a verb.

I am concerned that people would “unfriend” me when they found out I had been abducted by Somali pirates and unlikely to respond quickly to their direct messages.

I don’t want to have a news feed, unless it’s not from concentrate and gluten-free.

I want to be the last person in the world who is not on Facebook.

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