I know there are good, valid reasons for hating Facebook. It’s an ever-flushing toilet of corporate-clogged data. It deploys reductive armies of algorithms. (Why do the ads in my feed only hawk gay-hookup sites and Poise Microliners?) And there’s its owner, who’s at worst a two-faced dolt and at best a natural-born dillhole. But the guy makes a pretty great website, I’ll give him that, and I’m done with trying to leave it. Here’s why:

1. Facebook doesn’t kill productivity. People do. There is this myth that if you “deactivate,” suddenly your head will look out the window, your eyes will readjust to natural light, your hands—unshackled from the tyranny of keyboards—will start chopping wood and maybe even hug your kids again. But social media didn’t surface until I was in my early 30s, and I hardly look back on my 20s as some golden era of productivity. MTV, marijuana, Ren & Stimpy marathons—these were not ingested casually, and their sum effect felt far more isolating and discouraging than the mere act of Facebooking too much.

2. Ello is not an option. I got nervous last month. A lot of my “friends,” who were either poets or drag queens or some combination thereof, announced their mass defection to ello.co—a grassroots, alternative network that touted itself as “simple, beautiful and ad-free.” I don’t like change; every time Apple updates the iTunes interface, I’m consumed with rage. Hence I was pleased, almost vindicated, when news arrived (via their Facebook posts) that Ello was “confusing” and “didn’t work.” I wanted to be down for the cause, stick it to the Zuckerberg, take back the ’net. But more so I wanted to stay put, in that familiar white-and-blue space, the one that only crashes once or twice a year, where aunts and artists and uncles and transvestites all comment on the same post.

3. Dammit, I’m actually good at this sh*t. The only “I Quit Facebook” article worth reading is the one Richard Morgan wrote for the New York Times in September. In it, he detailed his “addiction” as well as the “shame” that set in once people started saying his Facebook game was “on point.” “Ugh,” he writes. “A knack for Facebook is like a knack for being the 20th caller and winning the Katy Perry tickets: There are no real winners.” Okay, but people often tell me I’m the most entertaining thing on Facebook, how my posts make their feed worth scrolling through. So I’m choosing to believe that posting is the new, new journalism and that The Collected Tweets of Bret Easton Ellis will inevitably be required academic reading.

4. Just shut up, already. I’m not sure what I’m most sick of, the articles I see on Facebook about “breaking the Facebook habit,” or the friends who post repeatedly about how they’re leaving Facebook. What pisses me off most? Cheap clickbait disguised as a goody-goody PSA. Some dude named Prince Ea released a lame, spoken-word rap titled “Can We Auto-Correct Humanity?” The video shows people ignoring dates and dogs while staring at their phones, then suddenly closing their laptops and soaking up real life. It’s got all the inspirational integrity of a pharmaceutical ad. Naturally, it landed you-know-where under the headline, “If This Video Doesn’t Convince You to Put Down Your Phone, Nothing Probably Will.”