Maketh Me Swoon

LiveJournals are the death of everything sacred

Ladies and gentlemen, I bring to your attention an Internet force more powerful than a dictator, more destructive than a band of angry gutterpunks, and it’s ruining a relationship near you….

THE LIVEJOURNAL.

LiveJournal says that you can create “the story of your life, as it happens!” Users can update their online journals as often as they like, create profiles by listing region, interests, and a picture, and connect with their friends. After listing friends, a user can see a page with just the latest entries from everybody. Users can make their journals private, only let their friends read it, or expose their thoughts to the entire Internet.

Apparently this concept is of some interest to programmers, because it is open source, or something like that. I don’t know anything about that and I’m not interested in that for the purpose of my argument.

And my argument is: this useful little piece of code has the power to ruin lives.

Tormented kids follow the links through Makeoutclub (an online profile listing, classfieds, messageboard site for scene kids) and eagerly expose their deep dark inner pain to countless voyeurs.

Take for instance a friend of mine, who shall remain nameless:

I dont know, I was thinking tonite…about girls. I dont know what my problem is. Is it the way I dress? Is it the way I act? Is it the way I look? I don’t understand what I do wrong, but girls just want to be my friend. Its like ‘I have too many friends as it is now, I dont want a friend, I want a girlfriend. Someone to share my secrets and passion with, someone to hold and whisper I love you in your ear, someone who would do anything for me.” But I am doing something wrong. I just dont know what it is yet. I am working on it though, I think I am going to start trying to dress nicer, instead of looking all whatever my style is, I dont even know. I am sure thats not the reason, but “every girls crazy bout a sharp dressed man”, or so ZZTop says at least. But what do they know, they are all 89 year olds with 5 foot beards. I bet they get more action than I do…hell, even my little sister has someone. Its just sad, I feel pathetic. Its not fair.

I have class til 3 tomorrow, then work til 11ish. I am sure this is going to help my mood 100%

C’mon fucker, I know you want to pull the trigger, well…at least I want you too. C’mon, I dare you, it doesnt matter to me. Put me to rest.

I shouldn’t make fun of him. Really. He’s obviously hurting. But trust me, this kid is white upper middle class, nice looking with good grades, this type of inner torment only comes from listening to entirely too much American Nightmare.

LiveJournal can also express all sorts of inner feelings:

don’t fucking look at me don’t fucking talk to me you are nothing I yearn for your life to end

I know what a fucking friend is

he kisses me good bye every time we part

nothing can or will ever replace that

a fuck you to everything for his back </i>

I will hunt your fucking head if you fuck with my friend

Riiight.

Or this budding young poet:

what can i do?

ill find a way.

and him. you.

pick up every little piece of me that has fallen apart

we spend so much time together

without ever questioning each others emotions

each other’s intentions

each other’s hopes or wishes

we just simply understand.

and leave the questioning out,

perhaps to avoid complications..

complications of distance, future and expectations.

scared?

no.. more like just settled in the way things are.

it’s weird how easily you can sink into comfort.

forget so much of the past and just go with what you have.</i>

maybe i was dreaming.

ha.

i think i’m always dreaming. </i>

i care so much about you.

Ha. She’ll be regretting that one when he dumps her for her best friend! Good thing Livejournal has a delete feature.

See where I’m going with this? Some things are really better off not said. An impulsive post in the heat of the moment with that Juliana Theory 7” in the background could really tear someone up.

So kids, I highly recommend using the livejournal to make plans for Friday night or keep in touch with friends, but not for the venting of your poor tortured little feelings. Why can’t we go back to phone calls or letters or something a little more personal than pixels coming together on a screen to form those potentially damning words?

Here’s a cheesy example, but it’s like in that movie High Fidelity where John Cusack says, “Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable, or am I miserable because I listened to pop music?” It’s the same thing!

Livejournals=MISERY. Get out while you still can.</i>


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