Life is Facebook?

BBC Radio 3 recently surveyed the national happiness levels of 16-24 year olds, and discovered that one in three of us are “bored with life”, compared to just 8% of pensioners. Making use of any opportunity to denounce modern youth and all that defines us as such, the Daily Mail leapt on these statistics, blaming Facebook for our troubles.

Not that, as much as it pains me to say, the Mail doesn’t have something relatively close to a point. Exactly when did it become standard to meet someone, fancy them, and then be able to, with a few well-placed clicks, find out intimate details about every relationship they’ve had since they were 15, so that you and your friends can plot out how you can be better (read: more attractive) than all of them put together? And it is a little demoralising to know that just when I think I’m becoming a functioning adult, I can get tagged in yet another ‘Nondescript event name + nondescript location + very precise date’ album, and relive every achingly awkward step of this journey that I, and billions of others, are going through, also known as growing up.

Nevertheless, Ms. Hemmings, let me disagree with you. I, and most of the 370 people Facebook says I know, do have real friendships. You know the kind: the beautiful, life-changing, picking-out-nursing-homes-together variety. You can see evidence of that all over my “isolating” Facebook wall. Part of Facebook’s attraction is that it’s a version of history unlike any other, and it’s literally held in our hands. No, you don’t get to forget being 14 years old and thinking ginger-highlighted ringlets were going to get you spotted for Bliss. But you also never forget the euphoria of your 18th birthday, that incredible summer abroad, or how amazing London Pride was that year. It’s your life, and everything you’ve put into it to shape who you’ve become.

If we are bored with our lives, which many of us are despite all that our world offers, it isn’t because of Facebook. If anything, Facebook can give us the jolt we need to throw ourselves back into the maelstrom of life. Facebook is capable of being the ultimate ego-stroker. You can believe that every minute occurrence in your day is important enough to announce to several hundred people.

And as for that 33% of you who are “bored with life”? Carpe fucking diem, for once. Wear those tights with those boots and the coat, like you’ve always wanted but never quite had the balls to do. Put your name down for that position already. Apply for that job you don’t think you’re skilled enough to do. Make life your bitch – go on, the Mail already has the bleak desolation of the rest of your life covered, no reason for you to waste time worrying about it too.