I Deactivated My Facebook Account

Sylvana Poon

Published Spring 2020

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I’m deactivating my Facebook account—

and let me tell you why.

I’m weary of all these imbeciles

imposing their lives onto mine.

 

With their

ostentatious jamborees.

Clink!

Pictures of glasses overflowing with bubbles,

like the plastic giggles

plastered on their faces.

 

Their

meticulous au naturel selfies,

only showcasing an inanimate airhead.

Click!

Heads falling into the screen,

even Narcissus would agree

he suffered a better death.

 

Their

shots and shrieks oozing of

juvenile angst begging to be ogled at.

Bigotry, gunpowder, bias—

Crack!

A dysphemism is the first descent:

the metamorphosis of a maniac.

 

I’ve deactivated my Facebook account—

it’s really opened my eyes.

 

Since then I’ve

strolled down drowsy coasts,

grains of time foaming through my toes.

Shhh…

The music of the streets

ripple to the moon’s cadence.

 

I’ve

had the carte blanche to drown myself

in the ethics of Socrates and Jesus.

Ohhh!

Oxford blue for the binding of

my philosophical Philistine thesis.

 

I’ve

liberated fauna on thin ice,

stitched an asylum from ashes of Noah’s ark.

Climate change, arms race—

Ah!

Antidotes for global crises:

agenda for the travels I’m about to embark.

 

I’ve deactivated my Facebook account—

Soul-searching has been sublime.

Follow my journey on Youtube and Twitter,

Please like, comment, subscribe!

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Poon is in their 4th year of English Literature and Rhetoric.