Disillusion

Last night someone retweeted my post “Protest and Sacrifice.” I had a look. She had only 6 followers. “Anyway, it's still something,” I thought to myself.

“It's a Russian,” Carlo said. He had come over to look when I made the announcement that somebody retweeted me. You see, it's a big thing in the house. That anybody gets me seriously!
    I didn't dwell on it much. Only later during the night, when I was tired of writing and wanted to take a break looking around on the internet, I went in to have a look at who the person retweeting me was.
    And my shoulders, along with my soul, literally sank.

I have had enough. There really was no point in going on with this stupid thing of trying to get my voice heard in the cacophony of the internet. People were not interested anyway. I don't know why they were following me, I had reached 115 followers at one point. Some people and organizations came and went, came back again and went again. I understand. Sometimes somethings attract you, then they seem a waste of time. As for the others who stayed... Probably they got interested at one point, but not too much, just clicked the “Follow” button and then did not bother at all to read or to actually follow. I understand that too. It's a tough competition out there. So many people vying for our attention, too many “friends” on social media, too many events going on both in the world and in our daily lives. Impossible to catch up with all.
    Still... I expected just one person at least. One person to be really interested in my project, in the things I say. I expected that from my so called “friends” or “followers”. This was a Pinned Tweet put up there exactly one month ago. I was asking for people to RT. Nobody did.

I was infuriated and indignant. It really was time to stop this imbecilic effort to try to get attention on the internet for the things I say.

“Nice! What nice, it's wonderful! Only one person retweeted this & it's a Russian sex girl to get attention. I guess it's time for me to QUIT!”
    I wrote and went on to send a message on FB. People there were even worse. People whom I have no idea of who they are sent me requests of friendship. I feel like telling them: “Hello, thank you very much for wanting to be friends. Let's be friends, but who are you? I guess you probably know something about me, why don't you introduce yourselves?” I mean I am upset at the discourteous ways of the internet. Call me old-fashioned, but I expect people to at least write a short message to me saying how they came across me, what they think of the things I say before asking for “friendship.” Even the people I know... They are school friends from long long ago. I haven't heard from them for 30 years. Then, all of a sudden, because of Facebook, they reappear. Fine, but at least say “Hi” and ask what I have been up to, how I am doing etc. No; no need for that. They just click the “send a friendship request” button, we become friends. Virtual friends. Are they worth anything? Do they even read anything I post, are they interested at all? No, not really. So why are we friends?? Why? I do not want virtual friends, I want real ones. I do not want followers who do not follow either.

Don't get me wrong, I don't expect anybody to read my long and heavy articles. I do not want them to “like” either. One friend keeps putting a like on all my posts. But I'm not sure if he reads any of my articles. “Like” is not enough for me, it's not of use to anybody. Besides, thankfully, I do not need to be liked; my husband has liked me and likes me, that's enough. What I need are people who will spread my ideas and my project to burn passports, people to support me materially and morally. Where are they?

If there is no one, then I am out of this game. Out of this social media. I write my articles, publish them on my website, I play on my own. I have more than enough fun writing, and satisfaction by publishing them on the spot. There is no disappointment there.

“Don't worry, we get retweeted by Russians too as Infocamere,” my husband tried to console me this morning when I was once again expressing my infuriation and disillusion.
    “Yes, but you get retweeted by others too!” I said. My disappointment would not have been so great if anybody had retweeted or shared what I wrote. It's really upsetting. It really is.