Friday, April 3, 2009
Why I Don't Twitter
Twittering, in essence, puts every twitterer on Reality Computer. Sure, MySpace told the world if you were happy, sad, indifferent, confused or whatever, but Twitter has taken it to a completely different level. Now we are privy to all the mundane truths and exotic fallacies of the serious twitterer's life. Too much.
There are practical purposes for twittering, but who can resist the narcissistic allure of reporting every restroom visit and personal thought to anyone who wants to know? In 140 characters or less at a time, that is.
My life online is already consumed by 30+ gossip and news sites, addicting blogs, and this blog. Anymore free online presence is overkill.
I do like a little mystery within myself and of those I encounter. I really don't want to know that you're pulling into the parking lot for school or that you just spent 6 hours at the beauty salon. And if anyone does want to clock you to that extent, I have to wonder why. To me, constant twittering is akin to "forgetting to stop and smell the roses". While you're bent over typing to the world about that sexy guy next to you on the train, you could be looking at him with an "it's on" smile in your eyes...