Week without Whatsapp



Some might say that quitting Whatsapp in the middle of a pandemic, when physical and mental isolation are almost as big a danger as the virus itself, is a bad idea. However, the important thing that many might miss in there is that they would be correct.

I uninstalled Whatsapp last week, deleted my account. Why I did it is a rather complex situation that will need its own article, half of which is already done, since 6 months. There’s a huge background to this decision, it’s not easy to explain, which is why I’ve been giving different reasons to different people.

The fact is that after the latest defense of Trump by Zuckerberg, I felt a physical revulsion from my phone, because something touched by him was installed on it.

My phone had been kept pressed under Zucc’s sweaty balls for a full day before being sent to me, still wet and sticky. The only way to get rid of the yuck was to wipe it clean of everything he’d secreted.

I would’ve quite Whatsapp years before, if not for a wonderful bunch of tits with whom I shared a group. Here’s a boudoir in their glory, and to remind them of the sex they’re missing.

The Feelings

The first few days after leaving Whatsapp were actually rather fun. This was because:

a. It was a very satisfying experience deleting my account, it’s like a 3 or 4 screen process with a bunch of bullying and begging to get you to stay. It felt good to be rid of the manipulation.

b. By a long series of cunning maneuvers and ruthless tactics, I had managed to shift the entire group off Whatsapp and onto Signal, to try and test if it could be done permanently.

Oh yeah, I have moved to Signal app, because sending text messages in 2020 feels extremely weird.

However, the idea of moving the group to it was doomed from the start. After the first few days of confusion, we started noticing the rough edges that are obvious for an open-source app. I couldn’t give less of a shit, but in the end a group is just a collection of people, almost by definition some might say. If, for example, you and your friends have spent years scissoring under a coconut tree, it’s rather difficult to get that same level of comfort scissoring under an oak.

So the group was abandoned, and I was alone.

The few days after quitting the group were interesting, I felt what I guess can be called withdrawal symptoms. Compulsive checking of the phone to see if there was something new, only to realize that it wasn’t possible anymore. A strange sense of loneliness for people, most of whom I had never met.

I did also notice that I was much less distracted, more focused. My time spent on the phone went down drastically, although time spent on Youtube increased a lot. Yes, I still use Youtube, who knows for how long.

I have been able to publish 3 articles this week, a miracle that hasn’t happened since before the extinction of the Dinosaurs. Don’t get your hopes too high though, I’m too lazy for this to last long.

In the end, I had no choice but to quit Whatsapp, and live with the consequences. It’s working out as bad or good as can be expected so far.

Suck my balls Zuckerberg.

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