Have been reading this account this afternoon

“Going back to Facebook after four years is a sad and scary experience”


Four years ago this month, I made a decision that has altered my life considerably. I left Facebook. I peeled away from the 2 billion monthly active users and into a world in which the dodgy views of people I’d shared a carpool with on some trip or other weren’t thrust into my morning.

I didn’t make a conscious decision to leave Facebook. It was similar to when I stopped smoking: every other time I’d made a song and dance about quitting I had failed, but when one day I realised that it didn’t make me feel good it dawned on me that I wouldn’t be missing out.

But here’s the thing – I didn’t actually delete my Facebook account. I simply stopped using it. A risky decision on my part, as for one, it means that my summer/autumn 2013 self is preserved for all the world to see. An online formaldehyde exhibit of a girl who was frequently stopped by the police on the streets of Oxford after leaving pubs carrying half-full glasses of sauvignon blanc. There is even a photograph of me in the Russian mountains, joke-wearing a Putin’s United Russia T-shirt, which I am surprised an angry commenter with a surplus of spare time hasn’t dredged up to discredit a political column I might have written.

That’s the trouble with so much of us being online these days: the internet never forgets, Google especially (unless you employ an agency to bury your mentions or put in a right to be forgotten request). Prospective employers – and even perhaps the US government – will trawl your social media record. Cached content endures.

The main reason I didn’t delete my account entirely, I should say, was a simple one: I used my personal login when controlling some of the Guardian’s branded pages. It might seem surprising for someone who frequently writes about social media to not be a Facebook user, but just as fashion editors often only seem to wear a uniform of black basics, so it is that plenty of tech writers limit their social media consumption or have their preferred platforms. I have kept on top of Facebook’s developments and new features and often tested them, but experiencing them in the everyday is something I no longer do and some changes have passed me by.

So delving back into Facebook after a four-year break is a genuinely daunting experience. It’s like stepping off a plane and realising there’s a whole other world out there just carrying on without you. I am shocked to realise how much I have no clue about. The transformation of lives I once knew intimately. There are many babies I did not know existed. Last names changed with marriage. Sad death notifications. The shock of profile pages that are now memorial pages. These are things that in the past, even after moving away, one would hear about via text message or phone call or, even further back, through round robin emails and letters, but which now are collated on the internet’s noticeboard: Facebook. No need for any other town-crying.

There is a lot I am genuinely upset about being unaware of. But also a lot from people who I barely remember, or perhaps never knew from Adam (including a few Adams), and so none of their life events feels particularly relevant to me. I make a note that, if I decide to start a fresh Facebook, I will run it similarly to how I keep my Instagram feed – friends and colleagues and people I have things in common with – rather than how I run my Twitter, which is mass engagement and #content.

But it’s the messiness of my home feed that reminds me why I left in the first place. I am perplexed by some of what Facebook now thinks is a good idea: inserting into my news feed all the happy birthday messages people I know have left on other people’s walls (why? what?). Much on the news feed is a cacophony of dullness and makes for a messy interface. This I haven’t missed and is why I suspect my head has felt at least a little clearer these past four years. Just one less screaming technological wail of attention to deal with.

I can’t get on board with the twee and reductive reaction buttons either: they don’t allow for the subversive use of regular emoji. And the live video feature (nicked from, among others, Snapchat, as so much of Facebook is these days) is something that I still have high hopes for in journalism, but is too often used as a real-time depiction of the gross or dangerous or the sort of livestream of consciousness that would have Virginia Woolf rolling her eyes.

But there is something that is tempting me, when finally closing down this old account, to set up a fresh one. In my message inbox, a terrifying flash of unread red, is a note from an old friend from across the world who I haven’t seen for seven years. She will be in London next week. But that next week was in March. I kick myself for having missed her and, as with the pile of languishing friend requests, feel an incredible guilt at the thought that a lack of response might be taken as a slight.

One person can’t seem to fathom my absence at all. But to a younger person, a generation Z-er, this itself would be odd: Facebook, they scoff, is for old people. And there’s nothing that old people love more than a Rolodex. And that, I realise, by sheer reach alone, is what Facebook is still good for.


READ HERE: https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2017/jul/30/going-back-to-facebook-after-four-years-sad-scary




Life but a dream

~ Life ~ dream ~ death ~ solace ~ magnitude ~ strength ~ guidance ~ love ~ power ~ respect ~ humility ~ goodbye ~ friends ~


Death is a fact of life

Life itself born from death

Back to the start and back again

Time passes

Memories never fade

As we sit and reflect

On what has been

And what is to come

Death is everywhere

A fact of life

Death in fact reminds us

Of what life is

Of what it is to live

The signposts guide us

on our journeys

The lights of life

Guide us

All the way home

Glimpses of the truth

The ultimate truth of I, you and all of us

A human history

Complex yet complete

Interlinked and interwoven

Energies that light up the night sky

Deep down where emotions lie

Remembering the ones we love

Till the day we die

And the journey is complete

Where the missions we were sent for

Became complete

Life provides death

And death provides life

And all that remains

Is the memories we left

Dreams that were once dust

Floating in the never sphere

Grabbed by angels

Brought to this realm

And made true

And so we continue

On our quests of truth

Because truth, universal truth

Can never be removed

It’s in our hearts and souls

In life as it is in death.


In memory of my friend Jane Day, who passed from this realm suddenly who will be remembered for her kindness x



Clinging for life

This all happened on a mostly grey day, where the sun shone in brief spells and the sea air whipped all around us.


The small dormouse scuttled through the undergrowth

Which was being blown in all directions

By the summer winds

On the edge of the cliff

The tufts of grass were thick

The sea was strong and the rocks large

100 foot down from the cliff edge

I walked to the end and peered down

How easy it may be to fall

The sign on the board read:

“Keep dogs on a lead”

Because they often looked around

Ending in the loss of life

I walked back as the wind rushed past my body

the small dusty track

trod on by many

The chalk cliffs that hung over the blue sea

As I took my step back

Something in the undergrowth stirred

A small field mouse moved and darted about

Scared by my human feet

He ran as fast as he could away from me

I was no threat to him

But he panicked and attempted to run

He ran in the direction of the cliff edge

I shouted, “Oh look a mouse!”

In an instance the mouse fell

And clambered for his grip

His small claws gripped desperately to the grass

Which began to give way

In his last moments

Before he fell from grace

I imagined how he must feel

Desperately holding whilst the grass fell

And then all of a sudden he did

The mouse which was only the size of my thumb

Instantly fell back

My instinct was to help him

But it was too late

His small body flipped over and he tumbled to the sea

I looked down and that was the last I saw of him

Halfway down, just disappearing from this realm and out of view

Life so precious yet so small

So I wandered and wondered what now for this little mouse?

So why have I quit facebook?

This is the question that is in my mind. Well, having moved away from Bristol at least for the moment, maybe for the long term, I felt that it was right that I begin a new chapter completely. This means for me a change of routine and change of mind body and soul. out with the old and all that. A serial facebook user, a heavy repeating smoker, a political activist who for the most part has spent ten years campaigning.

I wanted a change. So far, I’ve deactivated my facebook account, begun writing my new book and as of today, just signed up to a spa, swimming pool and gym. I’m still looking for some work but for the moment, it’s ok. Money is ok, it’s all ok. I’ve felt more and more drawn to writing my book and can now see the benefit of no facebook use. I have noticed how handy it is to keep in touch with people after a friend text me this morning after she has noticed today I’m not on there anymore. Things had to change, I had to disappear.

I’ve not written loads so far of my book, but I’ve made a start and I’m at that stage now where I feel drawn to write more, now the foundations have been laid. I do wonder how long I had been spending on facebook a day, but I reckon if you add it all up it would probably add to at least five hours a day.

I used to be and still am critical of television watching and usage. Although the information transferance is different (internet more interactive and less hypodermic than traditional forms of media) I still spend a lot of time on the medium. I’m a hypocrite, we all are to some extent.

I’ve also been applying for endless jobs. On the internet things take time. Most application forms take about half an hour. So far I’ve applied for 11 jobs, with one to do currently. One to do because I basically had been writing it for nearly two hours, click submit once I had written in my opinion an absolutely cracking form – for the page then to hang and then crash and subsequently lose ALL my data. Well annoying. I tried to ring up the provider of the site and there was nothing they could do, apart from suggest copy and paste all your data as you go along. Easy to say after I’d lost it all. I wish I had, it was excellent. But the way to look at is I guess to improve it. To make it even better than what it was. It’s a job I’d love to do – homeless outreach worker. Similar to the one I had applied for the other day but for somewhere else.

Things are good at the moment for me, I don’t know where I’m going but I’m learning to love myself for, do things I enjoy, live simple and live and love the moment more.

I’ve been questioning the meaning of life so much over these years, And I think I have discovered it. There is no meaning of life, you give life meaning by your own being, your own input, own experience and what talents you bring to the world.

Swimming for me starts tomorrow. And the gym. then stop smoking once this load I got cheap has gone.

Here’s to health and loving life.

Sharing is in our blood.

So as I discussed in a earlier blog post, I considered that, in cyberspace no one can hear you scream, moan or blog – unless they know your address. So tonight, I decidedly did that. At the end of the day, I do want people to read what I am writing of course, just had enough of the constant influx of information and of course messages and requests. So often I felt overloaded, spiritually and practically with things to do on there. It’s been weird really because it’s like an uncomfortable addiction. But everything in moderation is key really. Anything of too much and your destined for problems given enough time I think. Anyway, I was sat on my computer tonight, thinking about what to write and I had this idea of writing a status up directing friends to this blog. It’s been a weird week really without Facebook as that’s the only site I really go on. Instead on breaks I have been typing in ‘UK news’ into google and reading articles on there from various newspapers, even including the Daily Mail. Very interesting and kind of odd really as I’d presume their ARE actually people out there that agree with the opinions put out there. One of the ones that I read that sticks in my mind was written by Katie whats her name in the Daily Mail. I forget her second name, but you know the one – the one full of hatred and elitism all the time. And that’s what I garnered from the article I read of hers. Elitism, snobbery and hatred really. Not a good mixer and the type that sits in her lounge with her family complaining about the neighbours she doesn’t know much about ( “my family are all that matters BTW”)

Anyway, she has written this piece about who should and shouldn’t be allowed to sit in the royal box at Wimbledon. The question I was asking was “Why is there a royal box at all?” But she seemed to think it should be reserved for the ‘real royals’ and not the hangers on. Then she continued to say leave us to our strawberries and cream and go back to a muddy field at Glastonbury. She even had a popped at what she called ‘Marxist lefts’ like Tom Watson. This woman clearly doesn’t know her politics really does she.

Anyway, during the week, especially at work on my breaks, it was strange, I was stuck for something to do and that was normally filled in by Facebook time.

It’s been an interesting week so far without it though. More present in the moments, that is for sure. But the original plan was to not go on Facebook at all. But the nagging urge was to share. It was definitely there. But it wasn’t to ‘actively’ go on if you know what I mean – just to leave my message and log out. But it’s easy to go back on there once you have ‘left’ and a bit harder to leave. All I needed was a small hit from the social media syringe and it could tip me over the edge again. Well maybe I’m being over dramatic.

I even consulted Cia over it, popping in the kitchen, feeling like I was doing something wrong and just wanted to clarify why I was doing it. “I’m just going to go on Facebook for a minute” I said. She looked disappointed to me. But at the end of the day, It is my life and my choice and it is up to me. I know why she probably reacted like that, as any ex user, just says he’s going to have ‘one more’ and suddenly I’m a wreck sat in my own cyberspace drug den back for a little more. It caused a reaction in her, I’m not sure why – Afterwards we spoke about it and she said that “You said you weren’t going to go on it for a month and now you have” and “I just find it funny because you felt the need to go back on there to tell people”

And funny it is. Yes, because I went back to tell my fellow users, where I had gone to. Yes I missed people and of course, being in a different place; I missed people. I have missed hearing about things happening in Bristol. But that in itself is all a part of moving on I guess. I guess part of me hasn’t really said ‘goodbye’ to Bristol and who knows where I go next. Everything in comparison just seems, well quiet. Like life with the volume turned down. Which is nice in someways, not so in others. Sometimes I like it loud.

One of the other things I have noticed during this week is that whilst I have been working at various agency jobs people just don’t really talk to each other here – at work or on break times. Everyone just sits down looking into their phones – but perhaps that happens everywhere. Just that I’m noticing it because I’m not one of those people anymore, reading updates on Facebook and re posting. Hence why I started this blog, social media suicide to make some observations and realise something – and go back to my roots I guess.

Anyway, as soon as I logged on there was lots of notifications. a message, a solo message just waiting there. I knew why I was here, just to write the message and leave. I want people to know I’m writing about this experience and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. As I’ve said timeless on Facebook – the power is all in the sharing. It’s in our roots to share, in our bloodstream. But perhaps that’s just the addict in me saying that.

So it’ll be coming up a week without using Facebook. Well it’s not anymore is it? I went on. So I broke the deal with myself. Or did I? This abstinence based stuff is confusing. Well I went back on it and this is how I see it. I went back on because I felt the need to share, because deep down we all need connection and we all want to be heard, albeit in different ways. I may have stumbled at this hurdle but more than anything it’s just another chapter of this latest adventure within myself and the universe. Perhaps part of me was suppressing this feeling this need to have people read what I wrote. It’s sad really, needing people to read what you write for it to be justified.

That makes me think of how the western world has gone topsy turvy. When I was growing up there was this fashion of these diaries with a little padlock on them and you would hide them under your bed. Perhaps mainly ‘for’ girls, but I had one and a lot of my friends did to. Anyway, you would be horrified if anyone actually went to you diary and read it, you innermost secrets of who you fancied aged 12 and what you had for dinner last Tuesday. Now, we actively share such information, sometimes with complete strangers.

Well, I did it anyway. I admit that to myself. And now as this blog post comes to a close, There’s a part of me that is itching. That part that wants confirming. That part of me that wants to hear someone say, hope it’s going well, or even a ‘like’

What a weird phenomenon Facebook and social media is. We wait for the little notifications like crack hungry junkies. We wait, for anything, and will go for desperate lengths for a hit. Or is that just me?

Now the decision as all the decisions is mine. Do I go back on it just to check? I mean I need to deactivate my account again now anyway, so I do have to go back on there quickly anyway. Perhaps that’s the solution. Now I have ‘been on there’ to do what I felt I needed to do, now I say no more for the rest of the month. I love self analysis, I’ll go to my grave doing it – forever thinking about why someone said something to me two days ago, or what I must have sounded like when I said that. And then I realised it – It’s all mirrors isn’t it? Smoke and mirrors, there to distract us from the blaring truth right in front of us all the time. Right in front of us and a light inside us – LIFE

life and its ours, so precious. no matter what happens or who we are, this life is precious. So for now, I go and I’ll be back soon pondering some more and ‘sharing’ what I think again.

Why did I start writing this blog also? Perhaps I should have just bought one of those little diaries I had when I was twelve years old, and keep the little key in a jar next to my bed.


Another day at work, no Facebook

I just applied for a very important role to me and that I feel I would be very good for. The role is:

Homelessness Prevention Outreach Worker

this is what I have written in my personal statement. Even if I don’t get the job, someone has to read it, so maybe it’ll be an interesting read for someone, but I’d love the job and think I’d be good at it to.

Having left my Mums house in Bournemouth at the age of 16, life was tough. I held down a flat for a while and a job. Due to many factors, both growing up and current at the time I ended up losing my job which then meant I also lost my home too when I could no longer afford to pay the rent. I was made homeless twice in quick succession once aged 17 and the second time aged 18. I was moved into emergency accommodation due to my age at the time and then eventually into a hostel. I tried to keep my head above the water but I had begun to suffer with mental health issues. At around age 19, I was admitted to St Anns for initial assessment and then later sectioned under the Mental health act. Following my stay and being discharged, I eventually rebuilt my life and my self confidence after spending two periods on the streets, (once for two and a half months and the other four months) 

I eventually enrolled on a course at Bournemouth and Poole College in Nursing which was an ‘Access to higher education’ diploma. Within this diploma, I studied Psychology, Anatomy and Physiology and Sociology of health. Many of my fellow students went on to study nursing, midwifery or mental health nursing: whereas I very much enjoyed the Sociology of health element. This then took me to University in Bristol, which would shape and change my life forever. I began my studies in 2007 and completed my degree in Sociology and Criminology (joint honours) in May of 2011. 

After finishing university, I built two self sustaining businesses – both on trikes. the first one was ‘I Cycle Ices’ which was my business dream of making and selling ice creams and delivering them via trike all over the City. The second one was ‘Chai Cycle’ which was similar setup but where I sold Chai tea instead. Built from scratch, both businesses in their own right were successful and allowed me to meet many of Bristol’s fantastic people. One of my policies was to make sure that homeless people or those on low wages never went without a hot cup of tea during the cold winter months. Those who could afford subsidised those who couldn’t afford. 

Both these businesses sustained me through till this year (2012 – 2017) through hard work, persistance, personal outlook and great people skills. During this time, and still ongoing I write and enjoy that very much. In late 2016, I also published my book ‘Freespirit’ which outlines my philosophy on life – that together we are stronger and that we don’t just turn away when other people need our help. In fact, this philosophy also saved my life back in the time I have mentioned previously. 

In June 2017, I moved back to Bournemouth after ten years in Bristol. Things became very tough in Bristol, especially for people on the streets. It broke my heart to see so many people sleeping rough and not even managing to feed themselves properly, let alone have a roof over their head for the night. In October 2015 – I made the decision to stand to become the Mayor of Bristol, to highlight the ongoing problems of street homelessness, the hidden homeless and the housing crisis that is affecting so many people across the country. I used the platform successfully to bring the message that together we had to do something about it, and that the effect of austerity was responsible for so much hardship and so much pain and that we could do something about it. 

I write all of this from my personal experience and I would love to have an interview with you so I can discuss more with you and in more detail. I am a firm believer in that all of our life experiences make us into who we are right at this moment and indeed, all that has happened to me up till this point has made me stronger and more compassionate and desperate to do something to help others. This brings me up to date and is why I am writing this to you now and filling out this application form. 

In terms of the role I am applying for, although I don’t have hands on experience, I am an adaptable, eager and confident individual who through own life experience feels I am able to offer great advice and practical assistance. Through my studies at University, I have good understanding of how society does and could operate. I have good knowledge of of agencies and assistance that is out there to help potential clients. More than anything, I feel I have excellent communication skills and able to speak to people from all walks of life. 

I have great IT skills, including Word, Excel and many forms of social media. 

I really hope to hear from you soon as I feel this role is ideally suited to me and I can be of benefit. If offered an interview, I would love to go into more depth about some of the things I have been involved in over the years, including housing movements such as Bristol Housing action movement, ACORN and other such groups campaigning for housing rights and around homelessness.

A need for acceptance

Today, whilst I took the dog for a walk, I noted in my brain I needed to write something on ‘acceptance.’

The need to be accepted by your peers, by society at large is ingrained in us from early childhood. Whether this be drummed into us by our fellow peers, by the media at large or from our parents, it comes from somewhere.

As we get older, and our life experiences deepen; I think that people either become more in need of this acceptance or it lessens.

Staying on the topic of social media and Facebook of course for the duration of this blog, this need is somehow fulfilled – even if it’s a short term fix. Much like traditional forms of consumerism, the information age is similar in it’s demands and also it’s offerings. But it certainly is a well of water that constantly needs filling up. Dependant on it’s use – It is an outstretching of our egoistic sides – and again, in different users: it can have a bigger or smaller effect on what and how they post. Some peoples Facebook’s on first glance are just photos of themselves, often just selfies in various locations. What does this tell us of this person? That they have been to a lot of places? Or that they want to inform us that their stories do and should matter to us.

And many of them do matter. I’m not arguing that. People do gravitate to those that have characteristics in common or of course are related to each other through family ties or work relationships.

But what I’m interested in, is this. In whatever colour it comes, whether it be political or personal, vain – It is an deep yearning inside all of us to tell the world that we are relevant. That we matter. That we want to tell people and share our story.

There are many personal examples I have of mine which show the benefit to this ‘sharing’

It has broken down barriers in our societies (Or at least those who have an internet connection – with millions of humans of course lacking food, basic sanitation and a home at all, let alone an internet connection)

On my travels in India for example – one of the most beautiful things is the difference in the cultural attitudes to social media and Facebook in particular. “Selfie madam, selfie sir” are the cries of the young Indians who want to have a photo with you to show their friends here they are with the tourists. All these experiences for me are beautiful and show the undeniable humanity that still remains in mother India. But things there too are quickly changing, as is the world. It also is certainly a generation thing.

Where was I going with this piece? I’ve lost my track.

Oh OK. So here I go I think this is where I was going with it

I’ve often remarked to people that I use ‘facebook as a tool’ that I try to use it for ‘good’ purposes. To inform, to educate, to broaden the mind. Interesting first thought: Why have I decided to take this role on? And secondly, Is the reasoning for this to satisfy a part of my ego as well? Does this blog serve the same purpose, just that I don’t as yet have the same audience that I have built up over the years on facebook? Since ‘leaving’ facebook, I have found that I’m not feeling as down as I did the days previous. Living more in these moments and not feeling so overloaded with all the troubles in the world right now. And they do exist, I know they do and I don’t want to forget them or ignore them. but for the moment, these moments at least – I am on a inner journey of self discovery and one thing is for sure – I won’t be the same again in an ever changing landscape of the universe. If one day I return to planet facebook, then perhaps this month or 6 month hiatus from it will be enlightening and perhaps I’ll use it in a different way. One of the most interesting things I think when I’m using facebook is how I appear to other people. this deep self analysis often comes up for me. For example, when I’m re-posting a video of something or have written something, I often watch the video back again once more after posting to ‘see’ what others see. Same thing with writing too. I’ll write something up and then re read it again with the other person in mind. What will they think when they see it?

That’s it for now, another day of no facebook use. It’s been interesting so far and I wonder how many hours I have ‘saved’ since deactivating my account. Interesting really, all of it. Just one big sociology experiment really.

There is nothing wrong with wanted to be accepted of course. We all want to be liked, we all want to be listened to and understood deep down, on whatever level on whatever topic. But what I’m interested in is the obsessive need for it. The need for people to know I’m there and that I’m wanted and understood.

And my final thought – I wonder how people have even noticed I’ve gone at all?!

As Bill Hicks said,

“It’s a mad world, but I’m proud to be part of it”


Days pass…

So my plan was the write everyday, at least for a month after I deleted my Facebook. Life is sometimes busy and so yesterday I didn’t have time to write. Reflecting on not using facebook now, sat here makes me laugh really. How it has become such a big deal when in reality all it is not going onto a website a entering information to and retrieving from. But socially of course it is more than that. Anyway, yesterday a few times I started typing fb.com in the search bar and then realised I’m not on it anymore. Shortly before I deleted it I had a conversation going with Alex in India and needed to respond once he had. I suddenly realised I couldn’t because I’m no longer there. That communication then has now gone through Cia after explaining to him that I had taken myself off there.

Taking photos also seemed slightly pointless to me to. As always, I see things that make me laugh or are interesting and without even thinking sometimes, I just take photos specifically for upload, not for personal collection.

We went to the woods too which was nice, in the new forest to reconnect ourselves to each other and to just go for a wander. We got the train which is one of the places that I would normally be on facebook, where the signal dips in and out and I would be constantly refreshing the page to look for new notifications like some crack addicted hound. This meant that I was and feel that I was more present in the moment, rather than dashing forward and backward in the timelines, reposting, reading and sharing.

I feel like I have more real life experiences this way rather than a simulated view of the world, viewed on a screen. Now I feel I am more aligned with myself, rather than being distracted by content.

I’ve begun thinking of my facebook use and what I actually used it for in terms of time. A lot of my time was used reposting links I had found through news sites or through google and also reposting other articles that others had posted up. Most of my use was for political means, again as I mentioned in my last blogpost to try and enlighten my little corner of the world.

But who was I talking to anyway? Certainly a large part of my facebook audience are like me. So yes, it often was preaching to the converted. But I think a lot of my time was also spent there out of habit, almost automatically repeating the patterns.

I thought I’d miss facebook and perhaps if I was still living in Bristol, perhaps I would. But I’m out of those loops now to, in the ‘real’ sense so it seems a lot easier to do that now.

What else? Well in all honesty, I just haven’t been thinking of it that much in a literal sense but also in a philosophical sense. It just hasn’t really been that important to me. I think it’s meant I’ve tried to spend more time with my mum in the past few days and with Cia. Funny really, because earlier we were watching a documentary about India on the television (normally one of my no no’s)

Looking over to my mum occasionally, I could see she was in facebook world. Scrolling, or whatever she was doing.

I guess the message really with anything is about moderation and if you are using it as a tool then it’s not all bad. And also is it having a positive or negative impact of your life and your mental health? Recent growth in young people developing anxiety problems I think must have a link to increasing computer and internet use. Maybe I should look into that and see what studies have been conducted to see for these correlations.

Funny, now to… I go on my computer and I don’t really have much to do on it. I have a few games, and I write a bit, but apart from that it’s basically news or my email.

I do wonder what I’m missing out on not being on there. I guess it’s like having a box of stuff in a cupboard that you don’t need or use. If you never use it and it’s hidden away, then whats the point in having it?

An old habit of mine was to use facebook last thing and night and first thing in the morning. That has taken a bit of getting use to, but going to work early means I don’t have time really anyway to do my facebook lounging. I’d often use facebook until my battery ran out on my phone and laptop – and even then If I still needed more juice to be plugged in, I’d go and get the power cable to give me more life.

So there it is for now, not much to say really apart from the experiment continues and I already of course feel more present. Not distracted by the flashing lights, I look around more and also continue to look at myself with more detail.

Social relations are important and if they aren’t maintained properly then they end, finish or fester. That was always my problem with facebook – I was trying to keep updated with so many people all at the same time, it ends up making you feel overloaded and stressed. My concentration levels suffered to, I guess a little bit like cigarettes. Similar after a few days of not smoking I completely forgot that I even smoked either.

So what do I do now? Well I’m going to continue reading my book that I started in India and I love so much ‘shantaram’

Certainly a more peaceful way to go to sleep.

Oh and I just remembered a thing that used to happen to me. I’d totally forgotten about this. It happened quite often to but I know that I wasn’t totally conscious. I was drifting between the dream world and the waking world. I’d actually be scrolling through facebook, or trawling through information and I remember the colour well – the facebook blue.

Anyway, signing off. Not signing out.