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I'm just not good at Farmville
Friday, 1 January 2021 10:54 pmIf You Dislike Emerson, You Probably Will Like Poe. Emerson Fathered Pragmatism; Poe Fathered Precisely Nothing, Which Is The Way He Would Have Wanted It.*
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I've left Farmville.
I don't know if it's for good. I do a lot of things "for good" until I don't anymore. I don't know if this is a flaw in my character or what.
Some of it is undoubtedly permanent, because apparently it wiped out my friends' list. That's fine.
I felt like I was drowning in trivia, in other people's lives, in arguments and minutiae, and doing nothing but explaining myself when I posted, or sitting on my hands to avoid explaining myself. I was surrounded by love and goodwill, but unable to actually talk to anyone because the language was wrong, or the subject, or just me.
I had to get out and write long form, talk only to myself and not expect anybody to even read it.
I liked it when LJ was a community. It was a community but it wasn't everybody. I can't handle everybody, even when it's only friends.
And I can't handle the facileness of it. I can't handle people liking my questions but not engaging in conversation with me. I can't handle the vague generalities of affection that add up to nothing when you crave someone to talk to.
And how do you say that to someone's face? Even their virtual face? I've chased off too many people, let too many fly away because my words weren't working and I was overwhelmed, and I don't blame them. I don't even miss them, but I do regret them.
It's hard to keep giving to people who don't give back. I keep repeating Millay's "And one of us be happy./There's few enough as is." but it's cold comfort. Unrequited friendship is almost worse than unrequited love because you can't even write tear-sodden poetry about it.
*Harold Bloom
-:- -:- -:- -:-
I've left Farmville.
I don't know if it's for good. I do a lot of things "for good" until I don't anymore. I don't know if this is a flaw in my character or what.
Some of it is undoubtedly permanent, because apparently it wiped out my friends' list. That's fine.
I felt like I was drowning in trivia, in other people's lives, in arguments and minutiae, and doing nothing but explaining myself when I posted, or sitting on my hands to avoid explaining myself. I was surrounded by love and goodwill, but unable to actually talk to anyone because the language was wrong, or the subject, or just me.
I had to get out and write long form, talk only to myself and not expect anybody to even read it.
I liked it when LJ was a community. It was a community but it wasn't everybody. I can't handle everybody, even when it's only friends.
And I can't handle the facileness of it. I can't handle people liking my questions but not engaging in conversation with me. I can't handle the vague generalities of affection that add up to nothing when you crave someone to talk to.
And how do you say that to someone's face? Even their virtual face? I've chased off too many people, let too many fly away because my words weren't working and I was overwhelmed, and I don't blame them. I don't even miss them, but I do regret them.
It's hard to keep giving to people who don't give back. I keep repeating Millay's "And one of us be happy./There's few enough as is." but it's cold comfort. Unrequited friendship is almost worse than unrequited love because you can't even write tear-sodden poetry about it.
*Harold Bloom