I don’t converse much for two reasons. 1. I’m not good at it. 2. I don’t want to be good at it. Much against this distressing dilemma, i often get asked on Twitter why i don’t reply to mentions. Keeping up with their expectations, i don’t answer that question. Besides, i commit enough typos while typing my lame tweets that i’d rather not wish to increase my errata count. Or maybe i’m one of those who let others have the last word by not replying in the first place. And if at all i were to say something that could come close to explaining my stubbornness, i’d preferably not say it. I’m not accountable for my tweets. They are Grade A rubbish in any case. Similarly, it’s a choice to stay away from timeline conversations. Not that i find these wit-induced gabs boring but then i don’t find them overwhelmingly enticing either. Some talks make you giggle whereas some make you cringe. Both are OK as long as nobody is pointing a missile at your crotch and forcing you to read. For the record, i’m yet to witness an insightful chat taking place between two tweeps. People arrive with certain mindsets and log out with the same. Absolutely nothing changes. And they repeat the procedure tomorrow as well. This isn’t my theory because we know this for certain. A majority of us converse on social media for the sole sake of marking our attendance in the virtual world. Practically speaking, we haven’t graduated much from Orkut even though we won’t admit it. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with it as this attitude pretty much serves the whole purpose of garnering attention — not to forget, validation — we otherwise lack in our real world. But the ultimate gospel states that tweeps are merely killing time.
The right to remain silent
The right to remain silent
The right to remain silent
I don’t converse much for two reasons. 1. I’m not good at it. 2. I don’t want to be good at it. Much against this distressing dilemma, i often get asked on Twitter why i don’t reply to mentions. Keeping up with their expectations, i don’t answer that question. Besides, i commit enough typos while typing my lame tweets that i’d rather not wish to increase my errata count. Or maybe i’m one of those who let others have the last word by not replying in the first place. And if at all i were to say something that could come close to explaining my stubbornness, i’d preferably not say it. I’m not accountable for my tweets. They are Grade A rubbish in any case. Similarly, it’s a choice to stay away from timeline conversations. Not that i find these wit-induced gabs boring but then i don’t find them overwhelmingly enticing either. Some talks make you giggle whereas some make you cringe. Both are OK as long as nobody is pointing a missile at your crotch and forcing you to read. For the record, i’m yet to witness an insightful chat taking place between two tweeps. People arrive with certain mindsets and log out with the same. Absolutely nothing changes. And they repeat the procedure tomorrow as well. This isn’t my theory because we know this for certain. A majority of us converse on social media for the sole sake of marking our attendance in the virtual world. Practically speaking, we haven’t graduated much from Orkut even though we won’t admit it. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with it as this attitude pretty much serves the whole purpose of garnering attention — not to forget, validation — we otherwise lack in our real world. But the ultimate gospel states that tweeps are merely killing time.