When You Believe There Are No Accidents (synchronicity)
Facebook is a flood of epiphanies and synchronicities. All the time.
I mean, that’s how it’s designed. They’ve got this algo on you. (Oh, algorithm. I *always* have to correct that word. That and analytics.) And this algo is designed to keep you hungry for more enlightenment. More memes. More products that match your user profile and demographics file that they’ve been building on you since you were a child. We were all children when the internet bloomed into something more than scientists at distant universities chatting about porn and discoveries and where they were going for summer vacation.
So, understanding that accidental doesn’t happen on social media, I am often drawn in by random bits, odd photos, and I tend to assign a somewhat spiritual importance to the event. Like when I see an Alfa Romeo in the wild, I say hello to my dead brother, Tom. He loved Alfas more than any boyfriend. Maybe not more than alcohol, but he was gay-aa’d back to a somewhat less joyous version of himself. In later years he expatiated to Mexico and started lounging more. That’s really not what he needed for his mental and physical health, to lounge. He needed to walk or work out or at least (like me) eat less queso and chips. We all have our weaknesses.
Anyway, my friend Mark just appeared on my feed for no reason. Ping. Just like that, a message from the universe. Or is it Universe? Anyway, I’m going to call Mark in just a minute. I call them check-ins. One thing I haven’t gotten from my 20-something son in weeks. Oh joy. Anway, just popping in to say “good morning, good day, yes, please, and thank you.”
It’s not an accident you read this far. Thank you.
*image: and now I’m watching North By Northwest accidentally
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