Facebook for me has perhaps the most uncanny draw for me to return over nearly any other website. Begrudgingly, I came back to the social media site after a long hiatus during the Lenten season to, yet again, share my opinions and goings-on of my life via comments, photos, "likes", and most of all, status updates. There may be nothing else on all of the internet more self-indulgent or inviting of such behavior as those darn statuses.
The love-hate relationship between statuses and me begins whenever I see a "friend" of mine receiving "likes" or comments in which the jealousy flame is lit. Then I will perform a miserably sub-par attempt at garnering virtual popularity, and as if the beginning of this sentence wasn't obvious enough to indicate my fate, I fail every time. I think this stems from (1.) my reputation as someone relatively few people truly know, or (2.) most likely me trying too hard to be funny, charismatic, or poignant in my own way. No matter what though, my statuses fall flat. No one comments on them, or likes them. No one even gives a pity like for my broken ego all thanks to this service.
And at the same time, I question why it is that I care so deeply about what people think of me, or even what it is that forces me to interpret their actions, or lack thereof in a disparaging light. I think it's because I treat it like it's a game. And it's certainly one I cannot possibly succeed at.