A little over a year ago, my daughter was born.
The ensuing months disappeared too fast, Charlotte grew ever more immaculate and several pursuits which used to consume a good percentage of my time, all but evaporated.
Sleep was one.
Twitter was another.
I had essentially closed the door to this strange and delicious kingdom of distraction. If I made any effort, it was half-assed and pedestrian.
Obligatory. A little insincere.
Yes. One could easily argue –
Welcome to Fatherhood, Boner-Clown.
And you’d be kind of right.
I am a Boner-Clown.
Just not an entirely oblivious Boner-Clown.
Truth is, I’d lost interest. The more time I spent away, the further I felt from the desire to participate within this maze. The idea of returning aroused the fear that I was without an identity on this thing.
So I guess this was an act of restraint.
An abstinence from Twitter.
At least until I figured out what I wanted to say and more importantly:
What I would like Twitter to be.
I’m still not certain I know the answer.
But at least I’m asking the question.
So I’m not completely irresponsible.
Q: Who gives a shit?
A: Probably very few.
For the very few: Continue.
For everyone else: Disregard.
gummygunk
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2087
