facebook serves as one more accumulator of the past. It is based on a presupposition seemingly rational, self-aware of psychology, that to repress and not see the past would be to allow oneself to be haunted. Rather than repression, allowing a visibility might require less effort of destruction and concealment, providing the illusion of continuity; of not hiding, un-ostrich-like behavior; one is responsible for a web of contacts from forgotten years whose associations are either meaningless or sentimental. It is a chain thrown over to reveal shape and penumbra, the collection of a palace of phantoms in blue and white hellenic marble.
Yet this is actually a superstitious mentality, and rather than live with the occasional imago or phantom of the vanished and abandoned–be these sweet or unwanted–there is the hope of escape from the painful flashes of memory, by instead assembling a makeshift cathedral full of sainted photographs and images of those who, by having an accepted friend request, can feel they are not forgotten, not severed