On Twitter

I feel as if I should probably have more of a reaction to the apparently-imminent demise of Twitter than I actually do, somehow. If reports are to be believed, the company’s workforce has dropped by around 88% since Elon Musk took over just three weeks or so ago, in a mixture of enforced layoffs and voluntary departures from those who didn’t want to work in an environment that was clearly becoming increasingly toxic and destined to fail. (Musk had, if rumors were true, written two separate mass-messages to employees telling them that, in the absence of a plan to fix the chaos he was causing, he expected them to become “more hardcore” and work longer hours; alarm bells couldn’t be louder, let’s be honest.)

Twitter has been my social media home for, what, 14 or so years now…? It’s the one social media site I felt able to navigate properly, able to play around in — there was something about the then-140 character limit (now 280, of course) that worked for me in a way that Facebook or Instagram, Friendster or Vine or whatever, didn’t. Maybe it’s that my mind responds well to short bursts of activity; maybe it’s that I am drawn to platforms that center around writing, instead of images. Whatever; I was a believer in Twitter. It was where I felt comfortable.

That home is going to go away, according to those in the know. Ultimately, I feel… ambivalent…? “Numb” feels melodramatic and wrong, to boot, but I struggle to have a response that goes beyond a quiet sadness and feeling that I’ll miss it for the social aspect — there’s a number of people I made friends with because of it! — and the ease of news gathering aspect, but otherwise…? I’m not sure, I’m genuinely not. Maybe I’m just old now, too old for social media and everything it asks of me. Or maybe I’m just waiting for someone to make Twitter 2, and I’ll move there happily and quietly, and live out the rest of my days.

Maybe both.