brb, g2g
Goodbyes are often difficult. It can be hard to let go, so we put it off as long as we possibly can. Over time, we have come up with ways of staying in touch that make it so saying goodbye isn’t so difficult. We can still send each other a letter every now and then, make sure to call. Eventually, it became even easier, and we could get in touch instantaneously. Instant messaging changed goodbyes forever; it made it so that you still felt the presence of your loved ones at all times. If you wanted, you could reach anyone at any time. Whether or not they sent back a message was a gamble, but you could reach out to them all the same. Today, we have our phones, which by the day become more and more like appendages, joined to us wirelessly, just the way we like it. We are in multiple group chats, often with many of the same people. Our social media feeds hunger for more data as we devour the mindless cesspool like opioid-addicted zombies. We never say goodbye anymore because we never leave.
A lot of people are ‘chronically online’, all of us are, however, chronically available. To try and break free of the chains that keep us online is considered a hostile act that isn’t tolerated by most social circles.
My earliest contact with these insidious systems of bondage was the group chat. But even earlier, echoes of what would come were brewing as I left Facebook, severing ties with the status updates and groups, the constant messaging about this, that, and the other thing, all of which amounted to a hill of beans. By the time WhatsApp rolled around, everyone was leaving Facebook in droves, already on the hot new social media platforms of the time: Snapchat, Instagram, Vine (rip), etc.
I remember being added to a group chat for some birthday party or something. I downloaded the app and joined the chat. The rest is history. So-and-so is having a baby shower, make a chat about it, this guy turns 21 in two weeks, hop in the group chat, we’re planning the whole thing. Like we’re in a war room planning the invasion. What do you people want from me? Could this not have been a text message? God forbid you try and uninstall the app. If it’s going to be slightly more inconvenient for you to get in touch with me, I will likely never hear from you again. Which at first is annoying, having to be a little intelligence agency, keeping your ear to the streets and staying up to date on the latest invasion. Ultimately, the absence of those chimes is the greatest peace I have had this decade since the highways were without traffic during the plague.
There has been more than one consequence of such a hyperconnected society. In the past, when the height of mobile communications was a pager locked onto your hip (Google it, children), your job ended when you left work. Now, however, with a group chat for every possible social situation and a whole application dedicated to work chats, you may as well be living in a panopticon. There is no escape when you are so easily summoned.
Back in the 1900’s. We used to run off with our friends and have adventures that are now only seen on TV. We explored, we skinned our knees, and we found a dirty magazine behind John D. Parker Elementary School once. I swear to god it’s a true story. We said goodbye, and that was the signal that the stories of the day had come to an end, along with the streetlights.
Maybe it’s a good thing, not saying bye. Staying connected and in each other’s lives, like fixtures awaiting a visit. Dust off my portrait and dial my number sometime, let me know what’s going on in the group chat.
g2g!
