Fortunately this ailment is of the metaphorical sort, although admittedly it does make me want to bash my head against a brick wall. Repeatedly.

I’m talking about social networking: MySpace, Bebo, Facebook, Faceparty, Sitonmybook, Myfacebookspaceparty…all right, so the last couple I made up, but it wouldn’t surprise me if next week they’re reality.

The truth is that these websites are addictive. Experts on the subject (if such a person can really exist) claim that young people are spending more time multi-tasking online than they are reading, exercising and – in some cases – sleeping.

It doesn’t take an expert to uncover the reasoning behind this either: these are more than websites. They are interactive communities, virtual cities. A place to meet new people, rediscover old friends, nosey into other peoples lives and, most importantly, to sell yourself.

My personal migraine began when I realised I was sharing too much information with my friends. To some, listing Likes, Dislikes, marital status and personal blog entries may seem trivial, but I found that every time I happened to change something, curiosity amongst my peers aroused constant questioning and/or comments. And I was sick of it. I was sick of explaining myself when I felt aspects of my private life should remain just that – private.

Nowadays you won’t find out much about me if you happen to stumble across my MySpace. You won’t find out how I feel, because I won’t write about it. You’ll never know whether I got roaring drunk last night and happened to cling drunkenly to a similarly-stated male, because I won’t post the evidence. You’ll just have to do the unthinkable, and talk to me.

I’m not worried about future employers checking up on me (I keep my online profiles private), but I think that other people (primarily the age sixteen and under demographic) should start to take notice of how much information they post about themselves on these websites.

It doesn’t take a lot of effort to search out those rebellious teens who think that posting their personal sexual preferences, swearing and joining sickeningly false virtual ‘groups’ titled “xxFlawless Beautiesxx” and “Coolest Haircuts” make them superior to people who are perhaps not so extroverted, or as ‘aesthetically pleasing’.

A great proportion of today’s youth (and today’s adults, for that matter) will one day be forced to take a step back and look at the bigger picture. There is more to life than these selfish popularity contests. They will realise that no one wants to read their well-thought out paragraphs of self-indulgent tripe and no one enjoys wading through fifty-odd photos of the same person in a variety of what they suppose are ‘sophisticated’ poses (or worse still, amateur or otherwise “photoshoots”).

No one should care about ‘Top Friends’ (which is in my opinion the worst phrasing of selfish popularity nonsense I have ever heard). No one should judge a person by how great they set themselves up to be on a virtual medium, and personally I think some should be ridiculed for creating an over-the-top alias of themselves which achieves no purpose at all except to bloat their own inflated ego.

I can’t deny there is a place in this culture of Web 2.0 for the MySpace’s and Bebo’s of the world; they have been of use to me on several occasions, as well as serving as a good introduction to people who take interest in me. But let us not forget the pre-web era. Lets not forget how to revert back to the good old fashioned way of meeting people. Lets learn to ignore the growing trend of air-headed superficiality that dictates the best witty comments, hairstyles and clothing – it’s time we got our numb backsides off computer chairs and back onto the streets for a good dose of fresh air.

I like to think that the truly cool people of this world aren’t the ones with the highest profile views or the biggest network of friends; they’re in libraries, they’re in parks, they’re out taking photographs (and writing for CollegeCandy of course!). They’re in control. They balance a virtual world with a physical world, and that’s where I’d like to think real sophistication resides: in reality.