12 March 2007


I interrupt the program for some stupid musings on social networking.

What if you've discovered the social networking account of an old friend, an ex-friend (alright, ex-boyfriend!) and saw that, short of adding your own profile to his friends list (because he can't, you have not approved his request), he has about four people who has the same name as yours in his list (and it's not a very common name, I would think!)? Like, if your real name is Proclepia (bantot, sorry...I was going for "uncommon" haha) and he has about four Proclepias on his; yours is just the one that's missing.

The likes of Friendster, Multiply, Myspace --- social networking websites --- are cyber tools intended for people to connect; find new friends, old friends. But you've probably heard of countless stories of ex-relationships, ties that should've been over aeons ago, “rekindled” in some way on cyberspace. Old, buried memories, emotional wounds you have tried your best to get over, creep into your consciousness just because you see a photo, a profile, a text… or worse, a private message from that person trying to contact you.

I would’ve thought I was careful to keep my profile really private. I am not a fan of keeping in touch with people I’ve evicted out of my life (who is?). But who am I fooling? This is the internet, no one stays anonymous for very long. You always get “discovered”.

And so, it was bound to happen, fool. That was the idea of social networking; this whole concept of Kevin Bacon’s Six Degrees.

I am pretty sure the Proclepias aren't his real friends. I mean, c'mon, what are the chances you know four Proclepias in your lifetime?

And I don’t know if that bothers me. Alright, maybe it does… or else I wouldn’t be writing about it. The real question I should be asking is: should I bother to bother? I should note though that flattery was not the first word that came to mind when I saw it. Far from it, “Eeeep!” was more like the first thing I thought.

You know, you try your very best to get closure. But after 11 years, I’ve come to realize that this will never be possible.

Whether people admit it or not, you will always wonder what is up with that other person, even if it’s just a passing thought you’re bound to disregard seconds later. And in this case, I am left to wonder what he must be thinking at that moment, gathering all those who carry the same name as mine in his list (and it is not my common name!).

You will always wonder.

Why are ex-relationships so hard to flush? Why must there always be memory baggage?