Last night I dreamt I was Facebook chatting a friend about our Art of Film homework. Of all the crazy and amazing scenarios my subconscious could have conjured up – such as fighting a dragon, flying over green valleys, making out with Brad Pitt – my dream consisted of sitting at a computer, scanning through a website.

This sad example of the passivity, hesitancy and ultimate mundane nature that is characteristic of the Facebook generation is leading me to make a decision that some may call insane.

That’s right: by the time this article is in print, I will have deleted my Facebook.

Not permanently; just for one month. It’ll be a cleansing of the mind after four years of moderate Facebook usage. If I like my new life, I’ll keep it deleted. I’ve been toying with this idea for a long time. Why? Simply because I think that Facebook’s whole mission to connect people has led us to become more socially askew than ever.

We are so awkward. We click through random stranger’s pages, learn random information about them, and act totally surprised when we meet them in real life. We debate if a status is appropriate to “like” and if a friend would be upset to be cut out of a profile picture. We judge people based on their favorite TV shows and books before we get to know them, before we even meet them.

I don’t want to do it anymore. I want to remember that the choice to have a Facebook is just that: a choice. Yes, this might not be the most opportune time to delete my connection to the rest of the world, considering five of my closest friends are 3,000 miles away in London, Florence and Madrid. But we will still have Skype. And the telephone. And old fashioned letters. I suppose in my Facebook-free life I might not be able to read my freshman year roommate’s statuses about Michelangelo’s David and the best flavor of gelato. But maybe she will write me, in her slanty, almost cursive-like handwriting, a silly poem about pasta that I can hang above my desk.

Maybe I will lose touch with a few hundred acquaintances who I don’t see regularly at Marist; camp friends, junior varsity volleyball teammates who I don’t talk to over the phone or have the patience to write letters to. But maybe that’s okay. Maybe the majority of my 731 Facebook friends don’t really matter.

Am I heartless? Possibly. I just know that my best friends mean the world to me and communicating with them some way is very important, but everyone else… well, I hope everyone is doing well. But, at the end of the day, perhaps I don’t really care.

So adios, Facebook! I am devoting this month to reading books for fun, biking by the river, and writing letters to my loved ones. My life and my dreams will be 100 percent Facebook free. Suck it, Mark Zuckerberg.