It was January 1, 2010 when I joined Twitter. As far as my records indicate, my first tweet was that I’d “just joined Twitter on the advice of Martha Stewart. God help us everyone.” Back then I had maybe five or six followers, who I knew personally from real life, or at least freaking FaceBook. Looking over ridiculous Tweets from that period of time, it seems like I was a regular poster of absolute nonsense. A Jennifer Lopez critique here, a governor’s accolade there, and a mention of having ‘the Koto experience’ a restaurant ad which local movie-goers of the time will recall from the opening credits of the nearby movie theater. Cut to today, a decade plus later, when I’ve tweeted well over 100,000 times and have about 64,000 followers and a blue checkmark by my handle. What a long, strange and ever-evolving trip it’s been. There have been insults and accusations, adoration and celebration, arguments and death threats, and somehow I’ve managed to not get banned.
Social media is an elusive and untethered beast. It cannot be simply understood or manipulated, despite what most people think. The accounts that last and endure are those who are genuine and based in reality. You may not like them or agree with them, but they are the ones who refuse to be anyone other than themselves. The fakes and wanna-bes, the frauds and players, the people who hide behind a false image or entirely fabricated persona can pull off the façade for a while, but eventually they run out of space. As easy as it is for a lie to exist and be perpetuated on social media, the accounts who perpetrate such falsity eventually and always crumble. (Where is that former President who got booted anyway?) You can only hide behind a blank egg and a pretend persona for so long. And what is the point of that anyway?
If the main purpose of social media is to connect and share, to do so while coming from a place of fabrication or lies is an empty and fruitless endeavor. You can fake it for a while, but whatever you reap doesn’t mean anything because it didn’t come from a place of truth and honesty. My failings and flaws, while not exactly celebrated, were also not ignored. I didn’t pretend to be perfect, even if I acted with delusional grandiosity like I was. People see through that shit instantly. I made mistakes, I owed apologies, and I fumbled and stumbled through my social media accounts, but I was always myself.
And somehow, over the years, I garnered some like-minded followers who appreciated the silly whims and Madonna-drooling and Tom Ford regaling and shirtless male celebrity watching that went on in my online world. Whereas I could dive deep and get serious on this blog, in the brief posts and character-limits of Twitter my life was fluffy and light. It was a place where levity and brevity were the orders of the day, to keep pace with the attention-lacking flow of the modern world, darting hither and thither at break-neck pace – a Tweet on the devastation of climate change followed immediately on its heels by a Tweet on the devastating brilliance of Lady Gaga’s shoes. This smorgasbord of news and entertainment and personal life made for a Shepherd’s pie of eclectic and often-unrelated quick commentary. It meant so much and so little – the world in a single tweet that was everything and nothing at the same time. Such a silly thing when you really think about it – which is how I’ve kept it going all these years. The people who take it seriously flounder and flail, inevitably feeling the high of viral glory wane and ebb, vainly trying to capture lightning instead of just enjoying the show and letting it strike where it may. I can enjoy it for the trifling it is, because I never allowed it to be anything more than that.
Like the birdie that embodies its logo, I try to keep Twitter light and fluffy, so follow and watch me fly!