Seven Year Twitch

All of a sudden, I seem to have fallen out of love with Twitter.


It happened a couple of days ago, but I don't really know what the turning point was. I don't think it's some fault with Twitter itself. Every six months, you'll see someone complaining that Twitter isn't the nice place it used to be, and that things have changed since those early days when we were wearing loincloths and carving beautiful hashtags out of stone.

People tend to think Twitter is getting worse, because they think everything is getting worse. Each redesign of a website is greeted by a chorus of disapproval. Every time Facebook changes, people are outraged and call for a return to the last version, which had elicited identical outrage when it emerged the previous week.

Society is getting worse, because it's not like it was when we were seventeen, and the Mars Bar font was different.

It's all going downhill! The internet, television, music, society! Downhill, I tell you! I know adults were complaining about things going downhill when I was seventeen, but still...

There comes a point where you have to realise that society can't have been going downhill forever. Inclines are relative. A permanent slope isn't cause for depression; you just need to tilt your head.

So, Twitter isn't going downhill. It's the same. So why have I become discouraged?

I think perhaps I'm following too many people. More than that, I'm following too many similar people. You can only follow so many punsmiths and acerbic quip-monkeys before you start thinking entirely in terms of snappy vignettes.

It's not that any of these people are unfunny, or are not nice people. It's just that there are so many of them. They're like me. I'm following loads of people who are a bit like me, and they talk to each other in the same way that I talk to people. And they make similar jokes and observations to me. And I begin to feel a bit suffocated.

There's also the sense that the Twitter 'community' (if there is such a thing) is beginning to reflect the social situations I encounter in real life.

I've always been on the periphery of social groups. I tend to be a fringe member of groups. I can talk to certain people at certain times. I'm sometimes accepted into the inner-circle, but not for too long. I'm clearly an outsider: occasionally seeming normal, but eventually revealing myself to be lacking in basic social apparatus. I exude awkwardness. I'd be allowed in the private club if it wasn't for this uncomfortable energy I'm giving off. It's like static electricity, except less dynamic; powered by the knowledge of its own existence.

On Twitter too, I feel like that. I sometimes talk to people. They're always very nice. I enjoy myself. But they enjoy talking to each other more than they do talking to me, because of this awkward crackle, which is somehow communicable through Wi-Fi.

It's not that they're unwilling to talk to me. They'd be happy to welcome me into the fold. I just can't bring myself to dive in. I can't often instigate conversations. Even when I do, it doesn't last long before I get sight of myself in a full-length dress mirror, and scurry terrified back into a dark corner, hoping to escape the spectre of my own fraudulent alacrity.

(I seem to be writing in a strange, dare I say pretentious, way today. Sorry. It might be because I just listened to Marc Maron interviewing Russell Brand. I'll stick with it, if that's OK with you.)

So that's part of the reason I'm losing interest in Twitter. It feels like I'm attending a party where everyone is chatting pleasantly, and I'm on the outside of the circle, drinking pints of Diet Coke so I have something to do with my face beyond smiling inanely.

But it's not them, it's me. I'm bored with my own tweets too. Sometimes I write things I'm proud of, but often I'm just throwing out puns and whimsy. There's nothing wrong with that, I suppose, but I don't know if it has much longevity as a hobby.

I find myself writing things and immediately regretting them.

Today, I broke my Twitter hiatus. A comedian I follow, @TweetingTwill, posted a tweet, which was:

I wonder how many dolphins put "Swimming with Humans" at the top of their "Things To Do Before I Die".

A very nice tweet. But I, placing self-aggrandisement above self-exile, remembered a blog post I wrote ages ago exploring a similar topic. So I sent him the link to it. And immediately regretted it.

I was basically saying "I thought of that first! Look at me! Praise me!". There was no need to do that. It's an idea that I'm sure people did before me. It just made me look sad. You sometimes see that on Twitter. People will share their similar takes on a joke. I'm sure most of what people say on Twitter isn't original, but it's tough to have it confirmed in such a concrete way.

I did exactly the same thing with my immortal dog joke ages ago, and felt similarly guilty. [You can read about it here. Scroll down to the section that (very optimistically) starts 'Another slightly interesting thing happened to me yesterday.']

I think the lack of originality is another thing that's disheartening about Twitter. The sheer number of people means that some ground is covered thousands of times over, and horses have been beaten to dust.

So am I through with Twitter altogether? I don't think so. This is probably just a (short) phase. I need a break. I'm sure I'll be tweeting up a storm in no time.

I do think I'll have to unfollow quite a few people though. Which I'll feel very guilty about. It won't be a personal critique of any of the people in question - just a necessary reaction to their large number. Should I announce an unfollowing first? No. I don't think so. This blog post is announcement enough. If you're reading this and I've unfollowed you, please let me know and I'll re-follow immediately.

I need to whittle my followers down, and then increase the different 'types' of followees. Whittle and expand. Like a wooden balloon.

I think I'll start following some racists, some children, some kilt manufacturers and eight Foreigner fan accounts.

The trouble is, I'm going to have to post a link to this on Twitter. I have to. And that's the most attention-seeking thing of all. I'm disillusioned with my own solipsism, and am advertising my lengthy discussion of it. I hate that I'm attention-seeking and want everyone to know it.

And then people might try to reassure me. That would be awful. I'm fine! I'll be back soon! If you're reading this, please don't try to reassure me.

Of course, nobody might try to reassure me. That would be awful. Except me writing the above plea might have discouraged them. So it's fine. They're not reassuring me because I asked them to not reassure me, not because they don't care or haven't even read this. (There was a glut of nots in that sentence)

Retweeting is fine. That's not reassurance. That's just approval. Go crazy with that. I'd never turn down a retweet, even if it was of some out-of-context hate speech about Bangladesh.

RT @aWiseManOnceSaid A retweet is a retweet

So I'll post a link to this once, with an attention seeking description, but that's it. I don't want to embarrass myself. People might start thinking I have no sense of proportion.

That would be heartbreaking.

Anyway, I may be out of love with Twitter, but I can fall back in easily. These shoes have no grip.

***

I'd like to apologise to the readers of this blog who have no interest in Twitter. I estimate it could be as much as 70% of you. This has probably been baffling and pathetic.

You might be able to get some enjoyment about it if, instead of Twitter, you imagine I'm disillusioned with the Masons.