They don't read, they don't write

I sometimes stare at my Facebook profile and feel badly that it is pathetically empty of content. I don't fill the wall with pictures, I don't write one-line impulsive thoughts. It is still my blog I turn to for meaningful (to me) input.

I have done searches on names that come to mind. Names long buried in the furthest recesses of my mind. Names from schools, from vacations, from places I once lived in. The number of hits is surprisingly big. It includes people I least expect to have a FB account - especially people I remember who are irrational technophobes.

I hesitate about adding them to my list of friends for many reasons:

- They don't read and they don't write for the pure pleasure of reading or writing.

- They have exactly 2 "friends" in FB.

- They have thousands of "friends" in FB.

- They never tried to look for me in FB.

Of the list, I contacted exactly 2 of them. It had been rewarding. I feel like the blanks in the intervening years are now filled. And they, in turn, have tracked me to my blog, which I find immensely satisfying. One of them will even be coming to Singapore later in the year; I know we will make the time to catch up.

The rest I will leave to rest in my past. There doesn't seem any point in re-acquainting.

Especially since I know this about them - they don't read and they certainly do not write.