Make sure you are in the presence of people before reading. Loner.

May 21, 2011 (the day we didn’t die,

because we had people around us to

keep us from being loners)

As some psychology professional or random guy on the street said, “A friend is a person that you keep around so you won’t be perceived as a loner.” The little man my conscience keeps around, to make her feel like not as much of a loner, may have also said this. You could consider this little man and my conscience friends. Well, friends by their definition.

In the popular T.V. show, Friends, a bunch of people live and date—and do other things—with each other on the island-thing of Manhattan. In the entire ten-season run of the show, not one of them feels like a loner, or so I’m told (I, personally have only seen a total of three episodes). I can only assume this is because they have friends. With friends, there is no feasible way they can feel like loners. That would stand against the very nature of friends: people you keep around so as not to be labeled “loner.” If that happened to any of the characters on that show, that character’s social standing would drop immensely. Why? Because no one likes loners. That, and they couldn’t really be on a show called Friends without friends. That’d be awkward.

So, at this point, you are wondering, “does this person have a point.” Yes, I do. Well, no I really don’t. But I don’t have to. Because I have friends. Therefore, I have a smidgen of social standing that can never completely dissipate. With friends, there is a mutual understanding, a bond, a silent contract: to act as floaties to ensure that each friend, respectively, does not drown a loner in the deep end of some metaphorical social pool.

Today fears social oblivion more than any other time in history—which is odd seeing as Today is a day, and not a person. Today’s society holds a similar sentiment. Today’s people fear social oblivion so much, that even the most socially awkward people forge connections that provide the illusion of actually staying afloat in that aforementioned metaphorical pool. This practice is commonly known as “Facebook-friending.”

On this blue-ish website, people can “friend” other people, without ever meeting them. It gives the benefits of having friends and the social standing that goes along with it, without the hassle of actually going out and meeting people. “Friends” don’t even have to live and date—and do other things—with each other at all any more. Internet access, an email, and a password that contains letters and numbers and is more than six characters, are the only necessary tools to create the social standing that we crave, that we feel we need.

Social standing. The artificial anchor we thrive on. The presence of other people the sediment the anchor sinks in to provide its basic function. Because why else would you want other people around—people who sweat, poop, and talk too much—other than avoiding loner-dom?