Monday, September 21, 2015

What A Twit

It's not like I was being unfaithful or anything. It's a dalliance. A way to fill time in a way that seems fun and amusing without forming any lasting attachments. Sure, I could have stayed away and kept myself free of any repercussions generated by what some would see as my hypocrisy, but somehow being a part of something that seems so vital and young piqued my curiosity. I wanted to try it out, even if I swore that I never would. I'm an adult, after all, and I could have stayed safe where I was and never "put myself out there." I did, and I kind of liked it. And the company I work for encouraged me.
I joined Twitter. I tweeted. There. I said it and I feel better. I am choosing this place and this time to come out and cleanse myself of the awful guilt I feel to you, my readers of more than one hundred forty characters. "One hundred forty characters" is, all by itself more than one sixth the allotted number of letters for one tweet. I have so much to say on any given day, I bristled at the idea that I might have to truncate or ameliorate my train of thought in any way shape or form. What I have to say is so very important, if it takes me a few extra syllables to get to my point, then I should be allowed the space to do just that.
Interestingly, for many of my readers who may have felt that I was the soul of brevity and refinement, I found this challenge quite daunting. What do I really have to say? The little box asks me, "What's happening now?" It makes me think of Flip Wilson, and then I start to pare down the associations in hope of getting to that magic one hundred forty. I want to wax on about Reverend Leroy Brown.
Not that it matters. It's Twitter. It's disposable, and that's why I find myself periodically drawn to it. Not in the way I pound out paragraph after paragraph here in blog form. My wife told me I should post blogs in links on my Twitter feed. You didn't go to Twitter for a meal. You're there to snack. You go to Entropical Paradise for the buffet.
Or maybe there are just ten to fifteen words in this mess that really means anything. When I figure it out, I'll post it on Instagram.

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