If you only knew how long it took this Silver Streeters to get to know you. I mean let’s face it, some things were not in my schoolbooks back in the day – twitter this and twitter that, loading Instagram (which I have noticed many are less than instant what with blossoms in December if you get my drift) and Facebook was this anemone’s way of checking up on her long lost what you want to call it people, it took time right? Let’s not even go to the Snapchat number, I mean who wants to spend time loading a picture and have it snap and vanish … ah maybe some of you do, but I was quite happy with the chosen three to the point of addiction and say what … now the dark side powers that be have been selling my data to the enemy? Little old moi?
I am innocent M’Lord. Checking it all out is what makes the tube ride shorter. Focussing on the snapping of flowers, sunsets, bridges and tufts of snow helps me focus on pretty things when the world is bug ugly. Innocent stuff indeed. Thought I was being challenged and victorious when words were limited to limericks and so many characters and yes, believed all these warriors were my army in business and marketing. So what if I told you where I went to school and proved to the world that may children were the best in it – harmless stuff. My voice.
For now it seems my trivial pursuits are part of a darker scheme. Could it be that I have voted for Trump without knowing, that my ‘I am here at Heathrow’ has sent a subliminal message to the trackers who have twisted my course for their own benefit? Shudder M’Lord, shudder and shake at the thought that I many have swayed the Brexit vote – could it be? Mais non!
Say it isn’t so. I am just little old me wanting to have a voice that tells my story, not yours. Thought you were the sisterhood but maybe you are the sinister hood after all. Get it about Ads and such, but voting and endorsing other people’s screwball antics is not what I followed you for. So you big guns with the golden pockets (lined by the likes of little old me) get your act together and clean up your conspiracies. I don’t want to delete (oh dear what shall I do if I don’t have you) so let me play and go about my business of pretty things without feeling like Salieri with the possible poison.
Phew! There I have said it. If you want me to be your friend in the future, you are going to have to stop being a naughty girl – my BFF’s do not use me, turn on me or help me sway an election.
We have a lot to give, but it will be on our terms okay? This way we all get to win.
Your dubious friend on Facebook.
Images Telegraph, Hastac