I don’t know if I told you, but I tweet less. Like, markedly less.
It’d be cool if not tweeting translated to reading more books or writing more.
I’ve moved my mindless scrolling to Pinterest and Instagram. I get more out of my minimalist wardrobe and follow some pretty
enthralling terrible Game of Thrones fanfic memes, but no major glow ups as a result of tweeting less thus far. If my skin magically clears or my ass gets bigger, I will keep you all abreast.
That said, I have noticed small changes since leaving all the little birdies on Jay Bird Street.
1.”Trash” is a shitty descriptor, guys. I’ve not only banned it from my discourse, but will immediately tune you out when you use it around me. Find better adjectives, please.
2. I just…like things without defending or explaining them. My many jamming-ass, guilt-free listens to “Baby, It’s Cold Outside“ this season have been liberating.
3. My feelings are fairly inconsequential. I’m okay with that.
4. No one, and I mean no one, gives a shit that I’m single, why I’m single, or how long I’ve been single.
5. There are whole swaths of people enjoying their lives; not fixated on radically transforming themselves. Just…living.
I’m sure as I get deeper in my Twitter Exodus, new observations will pop up. I’ll share them here. Or maybe not. Like my feelings, they’re inconsequential.
 The Fantasia featuring Cee-Lo version is particularly jammy.
 I’m being facetious.