After getting out of my 12:40 class early on Thursday, I decided to grab a bite to eat at The Gallery at Snyder-Phillips before heading to The State News office.
As I was chowing down on pizza and a dessert, I felt “the urge” to check my Twitter for any potential news updates, retweets or DM’s.
After scrolling down my timeline, or TL, for a few seconds, I realized most of the tweets talked about nothing. Girls complaining about their relationships (or lack of one.)
Guys stealing generic tweets that I had probably seen three times within the past month.
People venting about the universe and how it’s out to get them. It was endless chatter, and most of it was insignificant.
“Why did I feel such a strong urge to check that?” I thought. 99 percent of the time I’m on Twitter, most of the tweets are nothing but fluff. Filth. Random tidbits and facts from people’s lives. It’s not only useless, but annoying.
I realized that after almost three years of avidly using Twitter, I didn’t enjoy it anymore. Out of my nearly 500 followers, how many of them truly care about I have to say? I definitely don’t care about most of the tweets on my TL, save for a select few.
Outside of minor amusement every day, Twitter adds nothing to my life.
The news that I find on Twitter can easily be found on CNN or Yahoo, or NBA.com. And I’ve known this the entire time; after all, most people don’t use Twitter with the intent of discovering news. So why do we feel “the urge” to be tuned in?
Do we really care about other people’s personal lives that much? Or are we just bored, looking for a distraction? I asked myself why I tweeted. Is it thinking out loud? Does it give me a feeling of inclusion? I couldn’t figure it out.
After I put my phone in my pocket, I made the conscious decision to de-activate my Twitter before the end of the week. Amazingly, after I made my mind up, I felt freer. Looser.
My thoughts weren’t connected to the internet anymore. I wasn’t worried about fitting my thoughts into a pre-existing standard of what’s cool, trendy, popular or common.
The snarky thing about Twitter de-activation is that I have 30 days to re-activate it. It’s presumably a feature made for the people who, like me, feel “the urge.” The urge to thrust our opinion onto our uncaring friends and acquaintances. The urge to vent when we’re frustrated, or celebrate when we’re happy. The urge to feel like we’re apart of something bigger.
I’m bound to feel “the urge” several times over the next month. Hopefully it won’t pull me back into the unforgiving Twitterverse. Because for now, and for the first time in a while, I’m enjoying peace of mind.