Like this puppy picture, or you will die

A picture of a forlorn puppy - sitting alone, head bowed, in the rain - is accompanied by the caption: "Like if you would save this puppy, ignore if you wouldn't."

A few scrolls down my Facebook newsfeed is a picture of a young cancer sufferer, with the equally taunting: "Like if you think she's beautiful, ignore if you think she's ugly."

My feed is torturous enough with all the images of friends' lunches, photographs of girls whose lips are permanently pursed, and status after vague status that are obviously targeted at an ex-boyfriend and add no meaning to my life other than to waste a couple of seconds I'll never get back. I really don't need the added guilt trip that I may go to hell if I don't share the latest meme or express my compassion by reposting an image of a decapitated cat (really).

I have become adept at glossing over the handful of friends I know who share every motivational and cute image they come across (all hail the "show only important" option in the Facebook feed), but when my eyeballs and brain are assaulted by a photograph of an elderly lady who has been brutally murdered on her farm, lying in a pool of blood, I have to ask where people draw the line when it comes to sharing content on social networks?

I understand the over-sharers may just be trying to raise awareness of the atrocities in the world, although I'm not sure what I could do for the murdered lady or her family, other than to sign another anti-crime petition that will never make it to the president's desk. What can I do for the decapitated cat, other than to cry, send negative energy to the sick-minded people who committed the heinous act, and lose all hope in the human race?

All hail the "show only important" option in the Facebook feed.

If I came across a dejected puppy in the rain, I would snatch it up in a heartbeat, feed it and keep it warm. If I stumbled upon an act of animal abuse, I would go postal on the offender. But what exactly can I do for the clubbed baby seals, the hunted whales or the circus animals? Not a hell of a lot, other than to have my day ruined when I see something like that on my timeline.

I can't say Facebook has ever been a "happy place" for me, but it's a nice, and sometimes needed, escape from my current reality, and I hope to see news that a friend has had a healthy baby girl, that my favourite couple is finally engaged, or to jealously ogle over photos of my cousin's recent trip to Mozambique.

There's also a new trend on Facebook. Small children call on the Facebook masses to like a page they have created so that their father will buy them a puppy. It was sweet the first time, but after seeing a million variations (I need 2 500 likes and daddy will take me to Disneyland), these too become annoying and pointless. It's easy to absent-mindedly support causes digitally, but how about "help me collect 1 000 blankets for orphaned animals and my dad will buy me a puppy"? I wonder how many people would actually commit to that!

These days, I log onto Facebook with hesitation, wondering what horror awaits, and what single image will ruin the rest of my day. I get so intensely affected by just the thought of animals suffering or the idea that a child will go to bed with an empty tummy that sometimes I wonder if it's better to just disconnect, turn off the computer and retreat to the safety of my bed and a good book. I don't need to put a damper on someone else's day by sharing a gruesome picture of something we can do nothing about, to prove I'm a compassionate person.

My actions - those performed in the real world, not passively from behind a computer screen - let me make my difference in the world, no matter how small that may be. The bag of dog food dropped off at the animal shelter takes a tiny bit of the burden off its resources. And the heap of old clothes I gave to the street child quite possibly made his day and kept him somewhat warmer at night. My sister once told me of a little girl who scurried behind a dustbin to eat a banana she had given her before anyone could take it away from her.

These are the actions that make a difference. If each of my Facebook friends all did one good deed a week, no matter how small, perhaps we could change the world, especially if the recipients of the selfless acts pay them forward.

The chain letters of old (forward this e-mail to 5 000 friends and X company will donate 2c to Y charity; send this to 10 people in five seconds or your nose will turn to stone) have been replaced by unfair appeals to our guilt. They tug on the heartstrings and try to dictate our morals without offering any real solution to the atrocities they're highlighting.

But alas, I admit to suffering from the irrational FOMO (fear of missing out) syndrome. I worry that, between the pointless statuses, the motivational poster we've all seen a million times, and the hordes of "selfie" photographs, I might miss the fact that my best friend's baby took her first step.

So I'll keep glossing over the empty posts, I will not like your puppy picture, and in the time that saves me, I'll make a cup of tea for the street vendor selling newspapers at the robot.