If you have no other means of communication, i.e. if 90% of your network consists of distant acquaintances you’ve come to care for, but for some reason not enough to find the address and phone number to all 300 of them, they disappear from your life along with you account disablement.
So after knowing nothing at all about them for three years, once I logged in I couldn’t help but to imagine what it was like for Matthew McConaughey in Interstellar; so a minor spoiler **** stop reading here until you see the movie******
The astronauts land on a planet close to a black hole, which due to its gravitational pull (and because the theory of relativity states it in this movie) one hour there = 7 years on earth. They fail their mission and end up wasting about 23 years.
When Matthews character returns to the ship, he gets a series of video messages that have been sent from earth during that time. He gets to watch his children grow up in the manner of seconds (for him), while for them it’s been 23 years.
And that is what logging in to Facebook after 3 years feels like. Time has stood still for me. I watched as notoriously single acquaintances had profile pictures with partners and babies, houses being bought, divorces and new partners and the most painful of all, funerals. It was as if the whole world had changed over night, when in fact so much time had passed.
And here I am, trying to catch up, and pondering over consciousness and the relativity of time perception.