I went back and read the post after I was kicked off Twitter, and it is the lament of an addict.
I'm glad I'm off Twitter. I had fun times. I had shitty times. You get that dopamine kick when you get a lot of likes, or a like from a celebrity, or even a conversation with a celebrity. That's why people tweet. I get it. The same as I get my alcoholism. Twitter and alcohol were co-accelerants in my intellectual descent and the bitter black quality of my tweets. I just kept getting meaner and meaner. Thank goodness I didn't have Twitter during the lockdown.
I had some highlights, like when I spoke with Harry Turtledove about crafting alternate worlds. I would send him scenarios like if Carthage won against Rome, or the South winning the Civil War. He would write back, "It's great that you figured out how to logically alter our timeline, but you don't tell me what happens after. That's the fun part".
Which explains why I am not an author of alternate histories.
I got my PET scan results one year after they found the ocular melanoma, that grisly goblin in my eye. The thing is still in there, slowly dying. More important my scan is NEGATIVE for metastasis. Hurray for me. Only the one kidney, half blind, next crisis.
I still have my account. I use it to keep up with the political scene by following certain people. And that's enough. I comment occasionally especially calling out the lies of our governor and senators.
ReplyDelete