Near-Tweets and My Addiction to Superfluous Expression

My addiction to Twitter has been getting a little out of hand.

I started as a reader. I loved those late night Occupy feeds during last autumn’s insomnia, “We’re surrounded. They’re taking Ricky!” A few hours later, I’d enjoy my morning coffee with links from professors like Jane Friedman who provides incredibly helpful resources for writers. Plus, the comedy is almost as uplifting as YouTube puppy videos.

Eventually, my urge to express random thoughts — too plentiful and one-liny for Facebook updates — grew louder and louder, and I turned to tweeting. I think I might be doing it wrong, though, because lately, it feels like my inner class clown is acting out.

Am I performing an immature plea for attention — several times a day? I don’t judge other people’s tweets this way. I completely enjoy my comedian friend’s updates. But my inner censor’s buzzer has been going off more and more frequently regarding my own habit.

So I tried something recently. Rather than tweeting every whim & fancy, I began typing my thoughts into the notepad on my phone. The process is like tweet methadone. And now, because I’m still having trouble controlling myself, I’m going to share that list of thoughts with you. Enjoy.

  • The man in the apartment downstairs creeps me out. I can’t articulate why.
  • I holla for pretzel challah. #yum
  • Sometimes I’m so expressive in conversation that people listening to me wince. It’s disconcerting.
  • My default facial expression looks like a smile to strangers on the street.  They smile back.
  • I just waited by the toaster not realizing I forgot to put bread in it.
  • The harmonica needs to be abolished. All songs with the harmonica should be rerecorded.
  • Why am I craving cake batter at 7:14 in the morning?
  • I think my brother just hastened our phone call so he could get back to watching the RNC. #familyvalues
  • Pawns are my friends.

What’s your Twitter habit like?



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