Left to my own devices

I recently mentioned to an acquaintance (I am not using the word "friend" here, as the reason will soon be evident) that I was thinking of deleting my Facebook account (again). There wasn't one, specific reason for this, more so an accumulation of... dissatisfaction. Interactions (or lack thereof) on that particular social media platform have felt hollow for some time. And the Zuckerberg app, more than other outlets, tends to bring out the worst in my emotions for some reason. "But how will I know what's going on with you?" the person asked. And there's the rub. This person has my phone number. They can call or text at any time, yet never do. In truth, they rarely interact with me on Facebook, yet I know they see what I put up there because they report back to various people some of the stuff I post. So it goes. At any rate, I reminded them of how they have my phone number. We'll see if they ever reach out.

"Hello, how are you? Have you been alright Through all those lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely nights?" - Telephone Line ,  ELO T here was a time when I used to love talking on the phone. This was before the ubiquity of the Internet, before cell phones, texting, video calls, etc. It was also before I had a job, and much of the work I've ended up doing over the years has fallen under the designation of customer service, where I would interact with folks either in-person or over the phone. That can wear down one's capacity for certain types of contact methods during off-hours. This was before all of that. This was when I was a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed young person.