People on my Facebook surprise me, sometimes they amaze me. Some of them make me very proud, some make me laugh.
I have artists and craftists on my Facebook. They sing, they play, they take pictures, they write, they sew, they paint, they draw, they do stand up. They are a bunch of coolies that I’ve met in squares, in schools and through other people. I normally appreciate their dedication and I smile when I see their passions grow. Especially when I remember how we shared more or less embarrassing moments or how I saw them outgrow their insecurities as years went by.
I have haters on my Facebook. The object of their hate varies from babies to religion, from Obama to healthcare, from vaccinations to non organic food. Sometimes I wonder how what they loathe became so incredibly impossible to overcome that they have to share their indignation with the world multiple times a day. Surely they must have spent 12 hours on a plane with a screaming infant, or maybe the said infant assaulted them in the middle of the street. Maybe Obama ruined their life and stole their dog.
I have runners on my Facebook. By the time I’ve kept up with their last half marathon, they already went all the way around the world and back. I have fitness fans who remind me every day of how lazy I am and how some day I will die miserable and alone, all because I haven’t done those 200 squats that are going to make my butt fly.
People on my Facebook complain a lot, but mostly, they consider themselves blessed. I certainly know how blessed they are because they spend a good amount of their days counting their blessings. Blessing number one, blessing number two, blessing number three. I can picture them writing down every single reason why they are so blessed. The way I see it, trips often bless them, so do kids, so does that hour of cardio or the fact they’re breathing.
I have girls on my Facebook. They take tons of pictures and they make sure we always see them. At times they wear make up, at times they don’t, but they never forget to keep their mouth closed and very tight, in any new shot.
People on my Facebook can be nice, sometimes.