Please take note – the following is an Alyss Rant, brought on by a frustating evening waitressing. It does not necesarily portray the truth, only her own, silly thoughts.

We are trapped in meaningless lives.

It’s true, don’t argue.

Years ago, life was about survival. I’m not talking about the time the Neanderthals rules the world, no, I’m talking about a quieter time a little bit closer to home. Before the age of technology, jobs had meaning and the work that you did changed other people’s lives. Your build their homes with your bare hands, you raised their food (and your own for that matter) and you taught their children, saved their lives and worked to make society just a little bit better.

Not so much today, if you think about it. People go to an office cubicle – sometimes with no window and they work with numbers, and figures, and… Money. More often than not, this money doesn’t even make them rich; they just work to feed the big bad corporate environment which leads to the downfall of most people except a few people at the top. Very few people are truly happy in what they do, very few people have a way out. Life is generally meaningless and we feel ever smaller in a growing world, trying to fool ourselves to believe in happiness (and managing it sometimes in conventional means of raising a family, loving a child, spouse or partner and hobbies which are truly ours and ours alone).

It’s in this frame of mine I believe that networking sites like Facebook appeared. Apart from the fact that it made a few people very rich, it pulled people out of their singled out little lives and connected them in chain of people both from the past and future. Friends’ counts soared on people’s profiles as we opened up our lives to the world. We would share our inner most thoughts, our joys and our sorrows with those who bothered to press the ‘accept friend’ button and we would dutifully hunt down anybody else who might just consider it. Quite suddenly, there were people watching us, following us. Commenting on our lives and sharing in these little moments that were private twenty years ago.

I think it’s time to point out that I don’t Do Facebook. I’m pretty cynical about the whole thing, feeling that the people I’m currently keeping contact with have my contact details and therefore don’t need to stalk me on the internet and the people that I lost contact with for more than five years in a row normally had a reason for leaving… Even if it is just lack of interest. Yes, I’m well aware of the fact that I’m becoming a grouchy old woman at 26. It’s rejuvenating feeling.

The thing is that, it’s not Facebook per say that I have a problem with, it’s this whole culture of sharing everything that you do in the vain hope that somewhere out there, somebody is taking notice. It’s like this wild and desperate attempt to get out of the current of nothingness that we find ourselves drowning in during our daily lives. The world has become an open book and we invite everybody to come and read it.
Yes. To an extent, the pot is calling the kettle black (and wait for it, my story get better). I blog. I am by all accounts a nobody, an insignificant person who gets onto a soap box every now and again or share random titbits about myself. And yes, lol, I expect people to read it. Hell, I even expect them to comment every now and again…

Because you see, like everybody else, I would like to hope that my life has some significance, that somewhere out there – somebody cares and that what I do, is not just of importance to me, but that I can make a difference, if only to bring a smile to someone’s face.

Like everybody in this world, I am in search of immortality. Of meaning in my own life that stretches further than this dreary, monotonous routine of work.

You see, when I was little, I wanted to change the world. And I managed it, for a little while if only by fighting day in and day out to keep lambs alive. My work then wasn’t swallowed up by numbers and information going nowhere. No. I made a difference. I helped to give life and sometimes took it, to make a difference.

I am of course, digressing, but what I’m trying to point out is that, I am just like everybody else, in search of meaning. Of Immortality. The modern fountain of youth which will preserve my words for the rest of my life and hopefully a little bit beyond.


I bowed under peer pressure and started tweeting.

Not because I believe that I can make a difference with it, lol, no – for the pure and simple fact that I was bored and thought: What the heck?

And in that decision to start sharing my thoughts in 160 characters, I realized that I have been wrong about people, that I am just like everybody else and that I should stop being so hard on society, because I’m sailing on the boat as well.

So, if you are interested, and if you feel as if you can withstand a little bit more from me every day, I invite you to follow me on Twitter at: