Not that I’m in love with them or anything but they determine how beautiful I am, and how much people like me, or how much they love me. Because how else would I know if not for them following my accounts and liking my posts and pictures? How else would I know if not for them commenting? That’s how I tell with other people. That’s how I can tell with myself. If she has more likes then she’s more popular, more beautiful. He writes better, he’s more humourous.
It’s like a whole new class system, and the numbers are what tell you where you rank. Where your spot is. How far you are from the top. Hierarchy. Who’s better. The numbers are what gives us the answers. How many messages you have waiting for your response. How many times your phone receives a notification. Someone liked your picture. Someone retweeted your tweet. Someone gave you a shoutout. Someone bla bla bla.
And someone else sees your numbers and realizes that it is larger than his/hers. Someone realizes you don’t make as much effort as he/she does. But everyone loves you. You have bigger numbers. Never mind that your life may be total shit and your numbers are all you have going for you. Never mind that that Someone has a family and a nice place to stay. Your numbers are bigger. Why is that? Why can’t Someone have big numbers like yours?
And Mr. (or Ms.) Someone who never leaves his house, who never bothers to go and try living, to see what it’s like, groans within himself about how lonely he is and how no one is interested in him or cares about him. Never mind that people around him actually do care, he’s just too downcast to lift his head up and see them. All Mr. Someone does is look at those big numbers that everyone else has, and wonders why he never gets those.