This shouldn't be news but then a blogger shouldn't be compelled to be a news source. Now that that disclaimer is off my shoulders or mind or other part of my anatomy or portion of me which defines or signals me, here's the non-newsworthy news: I got off Facebook.
I deactivated my account. I can return. And, yes, it's not a monumental life event. Part of the reason I'm mentioning this is in case one of my almost 2,000 Facebook friends, most of whom I haven't met but do have a connection with, through poetry or fiction, wonders if I unfriended them.
No! No one is unfriended. Just, everyone.
Not much more to say than that it is a good move right now. Like many things, Facebook is a box, a specified delivery system. As an intimacy-avoiding mechanism, it rules. I, however, am human, and need intimacy.
As a poet and fiction writer, I need to stray. I am a cat, straying. I am howling in the alley.
(p.s. Just did a spellcheck. Three words come up as questionable: Facebook. unfriended. spellcheck.
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