I’ve had enough of Planet-Facebook, and I can’t take any more hamburgers, smiling kids in Halloween costumes, prom photos, or inspirational phrases, and I've decide it’s time, it’s time for me to leave you, friends. I'm hoping to find an electronic resting place with fewer cats. I’m sorry to go, really, I’ll miss those that I’ve met on my travels through life, all your kids and brilliant sayings. I’ll miss you, but I’d like to give you fair warning that I’m leaving, we might want to fix a meeting on the other side of the curtain. Facebook, my companion since 2005, how do I die here? Everyone celebrates a passing in some form or another, they throw flowers or bow their heads or both; lets celebrate my departure. FB, old pal, what can you do for me?
Nothing? I can’t pass into a virtual heaven (or hell)? How disturbing that I have to stick around and just take up space, sitting on a couch in the corner. Lonely, suicidal, but without a gun. Well, here’s an idea for you buddy, imagine a Facebook Death-Timer or maybe a Kill-Switch. It would be far more humane. And based on my Facebook death settings, my profile would disintegrate slowly into a west-coast abyss. my old photos would shrink away, my insightful commentary fade into nonsense, and all of my data donated to a worthy cause. And finally, my profile goes black. Like.
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