Invisible Monster
ggalang@theguidon.com
After class the other day, I overheard my friends tossing around the values for which they were purchased for. Before I could think ‘flesh trade,’ my friends told me that it was for an application in Facebook called ‘Friends for Sale!’ Then they gave me mocking pats on the back for not having my own Facebook account.
Yes, I don’t have one.
Nowadays, it’s almost a requirement. To quote a friend, “it has everything you will ever need.” With the number of applications available—from buying friends online to getting daily religious passages—Facebook seems to cover all aspects of one’s life.
This made me wonder if it’s still possible to survive without some form of online account, whether it be Facebook, Multiply, or even the dying Friendster.
A friend referred an entry in llacambra.multiply.com, Sir Larry Ypil’s blog, which dated back to October last year. It was about his one-week dare of living a purely offline life, similar to my abstinence.
Intrigued, I set up an interview to ask about the experiment. Sir Ypil said he did it as a reaction to the string of suicides last year, and how the last of them was announced primarily in Facebook. For him, our perception of a person’s presence within our sphere of consciousness seems to be dependent on whether or not he or she is online. This makes communication ironically more complicated, despite the easier connectivity that the online community provides.
I’ve seen this phenomenon in action. My friends have added (or have been added by) particular persons whom they could not talk to face-to-face. Yet one of them sent a birthday greeting and another posted replies that she would not say out loud. “That may seem natural to you guys, but when you distance yourself, it’s quite strange that you prefer talking online,” said Sir Ypil.
Then again, one can argue that the online world gives one some form of dual personality—who you are online may not be who you are to the rest of the world. It also gives a certain freedom; just look at the new batch of the allegedly still-minor Vanessa Hudgens photos.
I admit I’ve owned my share of online accounts, blogs, and albums. But I’ve always failed to ask the question: why do we do these things? Sir Ypil gave the answer that had been at the back of my mind. “When you post blogs, you’re not looking for one particular person’s reply,” he said. “You’re just looking for a reply of sorts.”
Perhaps we’re all just looking for recognition. Just think of all those people that you can reach at the click of the mouse. One can easily be acknowledged once the invitation has been sent. But is it a real form of affirmation, or are we all just waiting for that “phantom reply”?
As for me, I’m just resisting the status quo because I don’t have the luxury of time to spend on Typing Maniac. Besides, the people who will be my friends in Facebook will surely be the same ones I spend lunch breaks with anyway.
True, I’ve missed out on vital news and updates. And from experience, people who aren’t with the crowd are usually out of the loop. But I can use these reasons to hang out with friends, swap a few stories, and catch up on each other’s lives, recognizing the other in the way it was supposed to be.
