On my love/hate relationship with social media. 

I’m not one for this kind of writing but it came out of my head so here we go. Call it a poem, maybe. 

Oh Social Media.
Oh Social Media, we’ve been through so much together, both hard times and good. 
You were there when I told the world of my tragedies and flooded my mind with messages of support. 
You were there for every triumph with likes and retweets. 
You were there for every new job; ‘congratulations!’ and every birthday ‘HBD.’ I ignore every year that it should just be ‘HB.’ 
You were there in my wedding day, as photo after photo was tagged with me and Mrs Magill
You were there when I held my newborn son and snapped a selfie, not a duck face in sight, just a smug, new-fatherly grin and a hat that was too big for his head. 
You were there when Ireland won the Six Nations, not once but twice. You amplified my gloating voice to the English, Scottish, French and Welsh. Oh, and the Italians, easily forgotten. 
You were there when we voted to leave the EU and tolerated my rants and you were there when I was told to F*** off back to Ireland 3 weeks later. 
You’ve been a good friend. You’ve taught me a lot. You’ve taught me more about myself and the world than most of my friends have. 
But you’ve been changing. It’s been coming for a while. You’re a lot angrier than you were when we met. Is everything ok? 
You’re a lot less cat video and a lot more shouty. 
You’re a lot more Blairites and Corbynites calling the others traitors or worse. Red tories, Trotskyite entryists. The poll numbers drop as the anger rises.
You’re a lot more of faceless men threatening famous females with violence, emotional, physical and sexual. Cowardice trying to sound strong. 
You’re a lot more Gary Lineker being threatened for being human and feeling compassion for others like him. 
You’re a lot more trial by photography and age guessing apps for the children of conflict. 
You’re a lot more hard, soft, chaotic Brexit, lies were told, stop remoaning, name and shame the foreigner’s employers. 
I’m not one to keep track of someone’s faults but yours are building up and are hard to ignore. You’re really a lot less fun to be around than you used to be. 
I miss when we went for coffee and took an Instamug shot. I miss when you taught me new songs or showed me a new gadget. Simpler times. Holiday snaps, hot dogs or legs, ice bucket challenges. Now all of these things are memories from ‘on this day.’ 
I’m not saying I’m leaving you but something’s got to change. We can’t go on like this. I can’t cope with the nastiness. Can you just send me a funny video once in a while, just for old times?

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