Fortunately, after a few weeks, I did manage to connect with some ordinary people who were every bit as entertaining but with the added bonus of being friendly too.
Recently I chatted to a couple of people in the real world who spoke about how they’d moved to another country, looking forwards to a fresh start, perhaps reinventing themselves. For me, joining twitter anonymously, was a little like that but like them, before long I found myself predictably reverting to type probably on account of the baggage I carry with me (like many do).
Having become more reclusive in recent years, rarely talking with others except very casually or in the daily dysfunctional, limited phone conversations I have with my mother and my aunt, so not surprising that I find myself vomiting on twitter - to the extent I had to create another account for this blog and a new blog for the first!
I have found my entertainer self re-emerge, usually to excess, then feel how wearing it is to be trying to be the witty outrageous one all the time. It can feel cheapening and trivialising (plus there are constant anxieties that people might take things the wrong way) but to express my vulnerability, hurt or sadness has made me feel like such a party pooper.
All is certainly not sweetness and light in twitter world, not helped by tweets missed by one’s software. On the one hand, I can often get into a panic someone might think I’ve ignored them whilst, on the other, have got upset when given the cold shoulder although, on one occasion, someone had just missed my tweet. There are so many opportunities for paranoia and, unfortunately, unpleasant things can happen. I’ve already had one queer bashing with censorious tweets and cold shoulders based on people completely (and very hypocritically) misreading something I’d written.
Fortunately, though, there has been kindness, some understanding and even apologies too that have got me through the more painful times when I was ready to flee twitterland forever.
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