I Refuse To Take Up Twitter

Okay, I know how Twitter works, at least on a surface level. You open up your phone, go to the twitter app, hit compose tweet, spend what feels like hours — which in reality is only seconds—to craft the perfect message, and finally you let loose. Sounds simple, right? Wrong!

It seems upon Twitter’s arrival onto the mainstream years ago, everyone collectively decided, “Hey, I have several blocks 0f ten minutes to devote to this bee’s nest of information. Let’s do it!”

Because it’s not just one tweet, it’s an avalanche. It’s pressure. It’s being clever, but not trying too hard, yet still dedicating multiple minutes multiple times a day to craft these gems. It’s a lot, and I don’t get it. The thing is though a lot of people do, every major organization and person has a Twitter, every podcaster signs off with “follow me on Twitter”, and even Voldemort and Darth Vader are privy to the platform.

326 million people use Twitter and I’d imagine most people are most active when they’re on the toilet. Working a full time job, my freest moments of the day are spent occupying the ceramic throne, so naturally, I imagine Twitter as a bunch of people conversing, whilst doing their business. Now, I get there’s fancy apps that let you schedule your post, but that’s just intensifying the pressure. I read one article that mentioned planning your tweets out a month out. I read that and wondered allowed who in their right mind would do that. How can I plan my cleverness a month out? That person must be superhuman.

People are also drafting their tweets now. They have tiny thoughts that they leave in drafts for days until they get that economy of characters just right before they press send. It’s all quite daunting. I don’t know what to do.

I need help. At the ripe old age of 26, I need help. I also don’t know if I want help. I’m honestly contemplating hiring someone to open and manage a Twitter account for me. That way my random hot takes about Donald Trump, Whole30, and my boss can finally have an outlet, I’ll stop complaining, and the bee’s nest will keep buzzing with one more worker bee in its midst.