You can keep your impressions, Mr. Jack Dorsey. They do me no good.

My last look at Twitter’s analytics tool said I got over 500k impressions! Wow. Who the fuck cares. I didn’t get paid for the ads they ran. Nobody clicked through to my profile or followed me. No one looked at anything I posted.

I do not need your “impressions,” Twitter. I have a blog.

This blog is half journal, half test bed for new ideas. I really don’t know where I got the idea that a blog needed to have big, professional articles with three redrafts and solid editing. Maybe it’s a good idea for someone, but for me, it meant I did all my writing on social media platforms that I got nothing out of and lost months of time to.

Starting is hard. I start a new project. Give it my all. Then nothing. The truth, of course, is “success” is putting your hat out until it rains. If you give up before it rains, you’ll never get any water in your hat.

Why would you want water in your hat? That’s silly. But I have to keep writing or the dread, the expectation, the experience of never having anything I do go anywhere will keep me from trying.

A credible person you don’t know once said burnout is actually a lack of support. It seems to come from over-work, but the actual cause starts sooner. People work harder, harder, hoping to reach probably ill-defined goals so they don’t have to work as hard anymore. Then it doesn’t happen. Maybe they did the wrong work toward the right goal. Maybe the goal was wrong. And they burn out.

Here, I begin by accepting I do not know where the rain is. I don’t know the right goal. I don’t know the right work. And after years of trying, I have to accept I’ll never know until something clicks and people take notice. I might put my water hat out in a desert in the dry season. There are things I can do to improve my odds, like knowing when it usually rains and choosing paths based on how much it rains, but that’s really all I can do. Preparation meets luck.

It was easy to start on Twitter, at first, because I consistently got feedback on my tweets. But the cost…

Twitter is all water, no ground. That’s why Twitter is blue.

I don’t need the anxiety. The knowledge that I’m one slight phrasing, one missed word, away from the weight of some too quick to click jerk’s following descending on me. The burnt time. The novels worth of tweets thrown into the growing aggrosphere of Jack Dorsey’s blue hell.

You can keep it.

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