In a world boasting and bursting of continually updated and unmitigated connectivity – wall-to-wall polyphilia, live chats, tweets, blogging, tumblring, and skyping, Jerome had never felt more maligned and alone. He was walking testimony to Seneca’s astute insight made two millennia ago: ‘Everywhere is nowhere. When a person spends all his time in foreign travel, he ends by having many acquaintances, but no friends.’
Jerome deactivated his Facebook account at 19:03 because Facebook wouldn’t let him delete account, only deactivate it. It used to. Two months before Rich, his old bar manager said he deleted his Facebook account after a six week addiction, which involved vicarious searches for old girlfriends he’d invariably fucked over and inappropriately inviting them to be his friend. Rich said, Facebook told him his profile would be deleted in fourteen days.
