Facebook Philippic

I am tired of you talking about how tired you are.

How much you need coffee. Or anything to do with getting, stopping for, or drinking your morning coffee.

I am tired of you making a heart with your hands, or one of your hands combined with the hand of another to form a heart.

I don't want to know about your sleep patterns, the amount of work facing you or what you are doing to battle XYZ illness.

I am tired of hundreds of photos you have taken of yourself in the mirror. And I don't really want to see any more pictures of you with your face jammed up beside someone else's or with you holding a large plastic cup of beer beside several other people holding large plastic cups of beer.

You overrate your cleavage.

I am sick to death of the coercive statements you post that try to shame me into stating how much I love Jesus, or how I agree that cancer is terrible, or that I shouldn't mistreat animals because, you know, 95% will not repost it, so I must be part of that loser majority.

I don't care what level mobster boss you killed or that you need my help to perform a heist.

I'm not impressed by your sharing of pithy little sermons about how you were raised, how you are underestimated or what meaning daughters, sons, sisters, brothers, moms or dads bring to our lives.

I really don't want to see pictures of beaten dogs or photoshopped cats.

You really need to stop drooling over fake profile pictures of incredibly gorgeous women. They are most likely not the profile owner.

I don't want to see your items on Etsy, the portraits you use to promote your photography, your bad paintings or all those pictures of sleeping babies.

You are not near as clever as you think you are.

I confess to spending some time studying pictures you posted in order to find the hidden gotcha, but even those are becoming mundane and rather stupid.

Your links to videos of amazing musical virtuosos who are younger than ten years old aren't as interesting as you think. Nor are those inspirational posters as inspirational - I know I'm not inspired.

Don't tell me what you are having for dinner, where you are going clubbing, how you are trying to resist chocolate, that your car is broken, or that I should be the change I want to see.

There.

I'm done.

For now.