He was slowly sipping his hot cup of tea and contemplating the ceiling of the room. The room was his whole world and the ceiling was its sky. He used to spend the day and half of the night doing that. Unemployed he was, yet he was not desperate nor optimistic. He considered himself a neutral person; he gave up philosophizing some time ago. He had nothing to do excepting sitting down and “facebooking”. He surfed it all day and night killing time, and it killed him as well.
He had 2111 friends so far. He did not know one tenth of them in person, but they kept his company. They filled his free time that was void of everything since he graduated. It was like a balloon pierced by a needle, so its rubber became similar to the skin of an ancient man.
He studied hard. Sometimes he excelled and managed to pass in other times. He copied the answers of other students many times. At the end, he managed to graduate miraculously. He wasa man who belonged to a certain environment, and he could not escape its incidents. Sometimes he felt himself like a ball among the feet of many players; they were kicking it as they pleased, and it did not have a way out.
He let out a deep breath as hot as August, sipped his tea again, and read some comments written on his wall.
“This is a failing attempt to feign smartness. Have you written that because you really believe in it or because you need to show us you are the wisest man in the world?”
One of his ‘friends’ whom he did not know wrote this comment on a status he had posted on his wall. He frowned. He always hated this kind of negative people. The last thing he needed at that time was a person who would bring down his spirits to the ground. Deep inside he knew she might be true, but he was by no means in the mood to reply or argue. The solution was too simple, and he always did it without any hesitation. On Facebook things go fast and easy; all one needs to do is to press ‘delete’, and it will be over forever.
In a way or in another without any logical reason whatsoever, his forefinger retreated one millimeter away from the mouse button; he hesitated for one second and decided to reply.
“Well. I know this type of people. You aren’t actually commenting. You just seclude yourself until you have such a chance to take all your complexes and tensions on a facebooker. It seems it is my turn today that you wrote me such a comment. The truth is that I do not care. Sorry.”
She replied, and so did he. The tensity of the argument faded gradually. They bade each other goodbye politely without any affection. They did not arrange a rendezvous. He did not pay much attention to their chat; he just felt that he recovered some of his self-confidence that he would have lost had she won their quick argument. He did not wave the white flag, nor did he enter a battle in the first place. The argument ended in signing an unwritten peace pack with her.
He smiled in self-content. He thought that he survived an acute night of Facebook depression. Then he roared in laughter, and turned his back to the computer and his Facebook wall and facea crack in a wall in the room. He pulled the pillow strongly to his head, as he always used to do, awaiting the miracle of sleep. And tomorrow would be another day.