Laughed Myself Wide Open

I don't smoke. I have, however, smoked quite a few cigarettes and I've enjoyed most of them. Usually alone, sometimes with a band or at a bar, never more than one or two a day. I would buy a pack, smoke half of them over a week, give the other half away, wait four months, repeat. There may have been three times in my life where I bought more than one pack in a row and smoked more than two cigarettes in an evening. At those times, I was a "smoker." And it wasn't all fantastic. There were a few in there that, when coupled with the shouting, dancing and imbibing, lead to a lousy day-after. Those nights usually came at the end of the week, and lead to the four month hiatus.

People hate smoking and I don't blame them. Smoking will kill you as slow and steady as the tide. It is also likely that smoking has done considerable damage to a member of your family. But it feels so good and all your favorite people are doing it. Well shit. I don't smoke because it's a little disgusting and it hinders my ability to run, jump, and play the drums. I rarely ever criticize someone for smoking, although I usually encourage others should they decide to quit. Either way, it's from the perspective of someone who has been there and done that.

I loved smoking; I was addicted to Twitter.

There is something amazing about millions of people posting completely random and unique thoughts every second. The web is lit-up by trends. People flock electronically. Current Events? The definition of current events is rewritten: I mean right the fuck now. Not a report tonight on what happened hours before. And some of my favorite authors, actors and comedians are doing it - people who I've always been curious about...

And yet, with the beautiful diamonds comes the scratchy dirty straw. First, there is constant updating and overflow of mundane information. Second, most web trends are pop-culture related. Not a whole lot of Ghanaians thumbing away on their iPhones. And my favorite people? I still don't really know them. Following them around is a little self-centered on their part and stalkerish on mine. And just who were the ten random people following me?

Yesterday, I deleted my account. My last cigarette didn't feel that good. I left work and laughed myself wide open. Like an unmoored boat, I drifted around midtown smiling and tilting. Listened to music, watched some people, sent a text. The sun went down and I rolled towards the subway.

I don't twitter anymore because after the novelty of throwing random things on the internet wore off, I began to feel a little trapped: I was compelled to post every hour regardless of what I had to say. It wasn't fun anymore; it was simply something I did. Still, I have no intention of criticizing it's power as a connecting force. Maybe in twenty years, I'll join the 2029 twitter equivalent. Whatever I do, it will be from the perspective of someone who's been there and done that.

Next Post: "Wednesday"