Likely Normal

Remember when Facebook was just a place to catch up with friends, view family photos, and argue with your uncle about politics? Those days are gone. Now, logging in feels like running a gauntlet of aggressive marketplace hawkers just to find a single human being you actually know. Your friends are still in there… somewhere. Probably. But first, you must navigate an obstacle course of sponsored posts that know you better than your therapist.

You scroll past “One weird trick to shrink your belly!” (You clicked it once in 2017. Facebook never forgot.) Then comes “Local singles are DYING to meet you!” (You’ve been married for a decade, but sure, algorithms know best.) By the time you finally spot a real person’s post—your cousin’s kid’s piano recital—you’ve already been offered three VPNs, two AI trading bots, and a “life-changing” posture corrector that you definitely don’t need but might impulse-buy anyway.

Even the search bar is rigged. You type “Dave from college” and instead get “DAVE’S DISCOUNT MATTRESS WAREHOUSE – 50% OFF!!” Thanks, Zuckerberg. The “People You May Know” section is no better—it’s just a graveyard of randos, that one guy who definitely already rejected your friend request twice, and “Sponsored Friend” suggestions (which, honestly, sounds dystopian).

At this point, finding an actual organic human update is like spotting a unicorn in a Times Square souvenir shop. You start to wonder: Are my friends even posting anymore, or has Facebook just gaslit me into thinking they’ve all ghosted me? Maybe they’re trapped in the same algorithmic purgatory, drowning in ads for “luxury” bamboo socks and wondering where you went.

The only solution? Keep scrolling. Dig deep. Endure the promoted onslaught like a digital archaeologist sifting through ad-laden rubble. And if all else fails, just message your friends directly—assuming Facebook hasn’t buried Messenger under 12 layers of “Boost your post!” buttons. Good luck out there, soldier. 🕵️‍♂️ #RIPOrganicReach