I use my Facebook memories to compare my “where are they now” thoughts on life on a weekly basis. My delete app button stays warm all the time with my shuffling of nosiness and fomo and then I go into ghost mode for a day or two.

To me, Facebook is the most toxic app for social media interaction. I don’t do X and thank god because I don’t need another garbage outlet of info. I know they both have their uses but the majority ain’t using it for beneficial purposes.

Again just my observation and I’m well aware that in the old days, trolling was one of my favorite pastimes. And the old days weren’t that long ago. I still find myself making comments and posts and later going back and deleting them once I take a moment to reflect on the post.

Hard to take the troll out of the troller.

Baby steps

Anyhoo

I look back on some of my old posts and wince, cringe and or observe what my mind was thinking about at the time.

Lot of anger

Bitterness

The need to be heard and understood

Ego honking it’s horn

It still honks I’m just more aware of it. I haven’t defeated ol El Ego and I’m not trying to. I only want to loosen its control over my behavior. My career and ego are very connected. I’ve been separate from both in two different ways.

How? I have no clue. I make up as I go. Don’t ever think of me as a person who’s got it all figured out because I don’t.

I’m just more aware of it now. And knowing is half the battle 🌈

My old posts screamed “look at me”

“Pay attention to me”

“Let me tell you how I feel about everything and everyone”

A declaration of indignation every single chance I got.

In fact that’s most of what Facebook represents. A platform of individual indignation seeking validation from those who would agree with your views and opinions. We don’t like to be wrong so we side on the virtues that reflect ours regardless of who else it represents.

Regardless of other points made we’ll stick to our original points. *Glances at ego

Yeah I’m talking bout you

My own personal growth chart is how many times can I look back on something I posted (and yes I used to post a lot) and ask myself

“Do I still think or behave this way?“

“Oof I’d never post that shit today”

“I no longer represent this statement”

It’s a self reflection on my past. I don’t look back at it like I fucked life up. It’s a “hey, I’m not that person anymore”

It’s not a “what were you thinking?” exclamation because I can look back and tell you exactly what I was thinking.

And well long story short, I don’t think that way anymore.

“They didn’t go up there and tell you. I don’t shine shoes anymore”

Goodfellas sound byte

My thinking has changed. Maybe it’s my 50’s rewiring my noggin or too many mushrooms who knows.

I’ve been in a cage match with my ego for the past two years or so.

My wrestler’s name is The Alchemist.

*grabs ego in headlock

“Who’s your daddy??”

or something like that.

You know what’s weird is for a week my voice changed while writing on my unplugged trip and it’s gone back to this.

Nothing bad I just find myself still reflecting as I try to move forward. Like a slingshot in slow motion.

Pull back, let go

I want that humor back. Gotta go back and look for it. Grief is still alive and kicking.

As it should be. I’m not trying to kick it out I’m still processing.

I may go tailgate by a creek. I may stay there for the night because it’s asking me to. Rightfully so.

In fact. I’m gonna.

Later gators 🐊