I was 17 when I realized my peers were selling their souls to MySpace. As a graduating senior, I found it ridiculous that most my yearbook classmates were logged into their MySpace accounts as they worked on assignments in class.
The number of “friends” attested to their popularity and a personalized profile with flashy icons and colorful backgrounds became another outlet for visual creativity.
My classmates were shocked to learn I did not have a MySpace account I maintained. It was just a distracting fad. As graduation day approached, I realized MySpace could be the next best thing to seeing my friends every day.
I was leaving high school, after all, and couldn’t imagine losing touch with certain people. So, I signed up for an account. Over the course of seven years, the allure of MySpace dwindled as my frustration with social media grew. While I had fun “pimping out” my profile every day with various HTML codes, I found it annoying that comments from friends were mostly random advertisements. Guys in their teens to their mid-40’s would send messages like, “Hey, sexy” and “What’s up, cutie?” How did this alternative avenue of communication become a billboard and meat market?
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