Where to begin.
First, you are awesome. You have helped countries mount revolutions. You break the news before it is even news (AFFLECK IS BATMAN??), and engage communities in immediate, real time discussion about those events. With you, we can collectively judge and ogle the dresses on the red carpet, laugh or moan at late-night monologue jokes, and debate with others about the lameness of our favorite team’s batting line-up. The litmus test for “hot” is that everyone knows that you are hot.
You’re hot, Twitter. So hot.
And maybe, it’s because you are just so damned awesome, hip, and relevant, that I feel you are out of my league.
I know, I know. That’s a cop-out.
Mark Twain once said, “Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.”
Just to be with you, Twitter, takes so much work. And Lord knows I don’t mind spending time on Social Media. Good God, I would buy a condo on Facebook if I could.
I just feel like I’m doing all the work. It’s the return on my investment that makes me feel, well, like just another one of your “followers.“
Your frumpy cousin Facebook does a pretty good job of loving me back. On some pages, I can actually see that I was read, and by how many people. I get a little analytics “report card” on a page I care about. The “likes” flow freely in the land of the darker shade of blue. Facebook works hard at keeping me, and that feels good.
But with you, I sit at Tweetdeck, staring at those empty columns of "interactions" like a teenage girl stares at her telephone the morning after a date. Is Twitter thinking of me? Any new followers, today? Did anyone hear me? Was I a favorite at any moment of the day? Could today be the day I get retweeted? Am I funny enough? I know there are lots of people who are funnier and more talented than me out there, but surely someone likes my stuff?
I can get a little desperate and crazy in between your sparse validations. Why am I needing your approval? That’s not like me. Is this even good for me?
How selfish of me to demand that sort of attention anyway. You are removing corrupt governments from power. A little space, J.A?
But you are so hot, Twitter.
And about this whole "follower" thing. Why does everyone have to be “followers,” Twitt? Even the leaders are followers. And unless you are sitting at the popular table in the lunchroom, you most likely have less followers than you follow. What kind of bullshit high school society is that, Twitter? At the end of the day in Twitter land, the science of success is fundamentally sucking up and waiting for approval. I hate Twitter.
I realized I needed helped, and signed up for a Twitter Group Therapy workshop. It was full of disheartened people, dismayed about being left out of this worldwide phenomenon they see so many others enjoying with impunity. Twitter Fail Anonymous..
At one unfortunate point in the evening, our Twitter Therapist pulled up the account of woman’s daughter’s (with Mom’s permission) to use as an example of what could or couldn’t see on people’s feeds. In front of everyone, this woman witnessed for the first time the vulgarity with which her daughter was conducting herself on Twitter. The Tweets were fraught with sexual innuendos. Did she even really know her daughter? I felt her ache. I’ve seen too much on you, as well. You open a portal to people’s dark sides, then give it a public forum. You are a Honey Badger, like that Twitter…
I don’t want to want you, but I do.
At the end of my session, Twitter Therapist Jimmy asked me, “So, J.A., do you still hate Twitter?”
I answered him honestly: “I will stop hating Twitter when I know Twitter loves me.”
“That ain’t gonna happen.” He smiled.
So it’s on me. Losing me will be no skin off your back, Twitter. I guess it’s for me to decide if it’s worth it..
(Time is so precious, so I thank you for using some of yours to read this. Carry on..)
Old Single Mom
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