A Chunk Here, Another one There

I knew Elon Musk walking into Twitter headquarters with a kitchen sink was a bad omen, but as with most terrible things over the past few years, I haven’t been adequately prepared for how the intended destruction of a bad party is going to play out. I can always tell there’s ill intent, that damage is meant to be inflicted, but then it ends up being this protracted death by a thousand cuts, and in the end I just sort of wish someone had taken a really violent approach from the get-go and ended it all, instead of putting so many people through seemingly endless suffering. (As so many are fond of saying, “the suffering is the point.”)

Yesterday, Twitter informed me it’s been 15 years since I created my account on that platform (It tried to tell me it was my X Anniversary, and asked me if I remembered when I joined X). I’ve seen many people come and go from my follow list and the site in general, it’s really depended on where the Venn diagram of general Twitter and fandom managed to overlap. But the last couple months, it’s gotten eerily quiet, even for someone like me who routinely pruned my follows so that I was always seeing who I wanted to see.

The site can’t seem to make up its mind for me, because I see some X branding in certain places, but the bird logo persists on my phone and on every computer I’ve used to access my account. I had given up on using the official app months before the hostile takeover started, mostly as an effort to cut down on my usage. But then even the shortcut link I had set up turned to an X icon a month ago, and I just fully deleted it from my home screen. I have a random tab open to it in a web browser now, and all of those locations still have the little blue bird to which I’ve become accustomed.

I’ve had to use some technological wizardry (an extension) to avoid their attempt at an FYP, because I was already not using Twitter “appropriately” before, and there’s no way anything that page had to offer me was going to be what I wanted. But there are certain things that require money now. I can’t use anything to automate a Tweet anymore (and thus I keep forgetting to post links to my blog there, when they end up on Mastodon or even Facebook without much hassle), even my trusty IFTTT applets are off limits now, which really makes me sad, because I love automating tasks. Sending something through a system and watching a bunch of things go off because of it delights me to no end (just ask my wife about all of the little triggers I have set up for our smart home devices). And now, even the few hangers on who were using Tweetdeck are finding themselves locked out of that service unless they want to pay for the access.

I’m still sitting on the outside of Bluesky, impatiently looking in and hoping an invite will find its way to my inbox one of these days. I think once that site becomes open to me, Twitter will start to become more of a distant memory, instead of the corpse I keep trying to revive on a daily basis. I try to use Mastodon, but it’s just not the same. And I’m unwilling to try Threads, because I’m already too connected to Facebook (the last thing I need is more of that).

I can feel the tethers between myself and people I’m missing from Twitter beginning to unravel a bit. I’m hopeful I’ll find new people, because users of the internet can be endlessly entertaining. And when they’re not entertaining, they’re maybe just a bit interesting, or inspiring, or sometimes heart-wrenching. But they’re out there, which is the thing I’ve appreciated so much since I found them.

I come from a place where the internet has only really started to become a necessary utility for people in the last decade. It’s a small town, complete with many of the stereotypes they’re known to have, which makes it hard for someone like me to find “my people.” I watch others encourage people to “see things from the other side” or look from a different perspective, and cringe at the thought, because I’ve done a lot of that, and I’ve felt very alone in doing so. Twitter was one of the places where it didn’t feel like I needed to search far and wide to see I wasn’t the only one who felt a certain way.

It couldn’t always be that way, because people are going to disagree about things, often. But after having spent a lot of my life in a bubble I wouldn’t normally choose to occupy, being able to craft a bubble of my own was such a relief.

Now, the bubble has popped, and everything inside of it seems to have scattered to the four winds. So, I’m here trying to keep track of which direction everyone went so that once my own vehicle is ready, I might be able to follow them. Except, it’s still going to be a while before I can make my own exit I guess. The waiting is the hardest part. I think the last time I was waiting with anticipation for a website invite it was probably for Gmail or Ravelry or something along those lines. Considering I’ve been on those sites almost as long as (maybe even longer than) I have been on Twitter, that’s a heck of a long time.

Very little of this has anything to do with specific creators. Maybe once I’m in the blue sky place with the other people I’m missing I’ll be able to point them out so others can appreciate them as well. And if anyone’s sitting on a spare invite, and feeling generous, think of me? Maybe?