Rickrolled by Judi Dench. Again.

 Social media. It's a lark, isn't it? Posting all the cool things you think. Your sweet, sweet opinions. Repurposing all those dank memes. Your favourite songs, films, people. Pushing it all out there, curating yourself: this is me, these are my tastes, this is how I choose to present myself. Love me. Think I'm cool. I exist. 

At least that's how I used to do it. Other people just seem to use it to start fights, pour scorn and drip bile, and reveal the enormity of their mendacity and ignorance. I save all that for Messenger, obvs. That's just between you and me. 

But that's in the past. I'm still there, gamely posting away, as charming and insightful as ever. But I'm not gathering up those all important, dopamine triggering likes the way I used to and, crucially, it's lonely out there. I'm not seeing any of my friends posts. They might be posting solid gold, but I don't know because all I'm seeing are sponsored adverts for: The Telegraph, some nasty looking British Lions underpants from a company called "Oddballs", Warburtons (shit bread, big Tory donors), The National Lottery (which I haven't played this century), Myprotein, which I'm guessing is some sort of gym supplement, an opportunity to meet some footballers - and that's my worst nightmare - through a competition in the Co Op, Money Supermarket, with their terrible Judi-Dench-is-still-M adverts, Braun razors and Le Creuset. 

I mean, I've no beef with Le Creuset, but we're not exactly friends. And that's very much the social aspect of social media. Facebook are pushing the media part that bit harder. 

Facebook is really the only social media I properly use. Insta is fine. I post pretty pictures and write charming captions. Blue Sky I no longer bother with. X is ex. The Tik Toks I might get into to try and shift a few books. But Facebook is the only one you can actually write on. There's no restriction - you can waffle on forever. And I can link to my website, or online bookshops where you can buy my books. It should be useful. You can write loads. That, I assume, is why young people think Facebook is for sad old people. And because it is. But at least we're not doing a dance routine to Halucinate by Dua Lipa, dressed as Sailor Moon. 

Sailor Moon. Is that still a thing? Kids? Fellow kids? 

Every so often, the crushing emptiness of social media hits me like a wet sand bag in the face. What a fucking waste of time. You put another nickel in the Nickelodeon. You gather up the likes, like the council sweeping up blanched flowers and soggy teddy bears after a roadside traffic incident. 

But if you don't write anything, nothing will happen. Just rolling sponsored adverts. Forever. It really is a colossal waste of time. 

One day. One day.