A Deal with the Devil

Pen and paper beside

Endless thoughts brewing on my mind

Let’s see, how to begin

Oh look, there’s a notification!

Listless faces, infinite stories

Such overwhelming information

Might I just take a minute’s break?

Any likes or comments- a quick check.

Time passes, months fly

The summer winds gently sway

This raving demon consumes my soul

It carries me up and away.

Such a possessive spouse,

A more obsessive partner I haven’t seen

We are in a co-dependent relationship.

We’d have to go to therapy

But ah Facebook, only you have understood me!

Now you love me, now you don’t

You make me feel pretty;

You make me sound smart.

I’ve never met anyone like you

I’d trade every reality for this illusory you.

It’s true I haven’t read a book in eons

Not even made a friend- a real one that is.

But it doesn’t matter you see

My Facebook friends are more than 450.

We are closer than you think

We talk everyday, sometimes by night

And when my neighbour (some name I forget) commits suicide

That’s what I put up as status.

My FB friends are very concerned

They shower me with affection

I know they care and they do.

I’m not lonely as that neighbour too.

Morning to night, I search

Crazy anecdotes, curious sightings, whatever I can find

To impress my invisible friends.

But the day my status gets less than 10 likes,

I gasp. I stare aghast, afraid

To acknowledge my worthless existence.

Why does nobody love me?

Am I that repulsive, that boring?

What would it take to just ‘like’ me?

Because you see, attention is a transient drug

Keeps you high till the effects wear off

Very soon, 10 likes aren’t enough.

You need more and more. As far you can go.

His photo got more comments than mine.

Does that mean he’s more popular, more charming?

Ah Facebook you bitch,

You have created a pool of contagious narcissuses

Each feeding off the popularity of other

Distracting us from the real world.

Attention keeps us high, in a vegetative state

We’re all kings and queens here

Just a reflection of our true selves.

So take my home, my pen, paper and soul

Take my beauty, my vitality, my youth

Take my knowledge, my urge, I care not

So long as my profile is ‘followed’ the most.