I’m a sociable kinda gal. Most people may be utter cunts but I like to surround myself with the good’uns. Nowt like a lovely chat to perk up yer day. And d’y'know where it’s good to have a chat? That Twitter. Huzzah for Twitter! You can rely on Twitter 24/7 for inane banter, scintillating mass debate, and cutting edge topical jibber-jabber. I currently have over 2500 followers, which, to the uninitiated, means I’m more popular than Geoff, but a lot less popular than Justin Bieber, or someone with their tits out. That’s OK. I can handle that. I like having followers. Makes me feel like I’m a cult leader. And that’s CULT.
But yesterday and today I’ve been doing something I’ve not really done before. I’ve been unfollowing people. I know. It’s not even a real word. Yet I’ve been doing it.
See, at the moment I’m following 1757 people. That’s a lot of people. Some of them are famous people. Most of them are not. And I figure I only ever interact, on a regular basis, with about, say, hmmm, 5% of them? That’s more or less 88 people.* Out of 1757. WHY DO I FOLLOW SO MANY PEOPLE? My timeline gets all cluttered with their farking milm and crappy wiff-waff. Most alarming. I really don’t know.
Consequently, I began unfollowing. And how liberating is that? Like ‘squashing bluebottle flies’, as @agingmatron so charmingly put it. Yeah, well, it is. It is like cutting loose the useless and the non-fun. I could not have found it more brutally satisfying unless I had been casually picking off scabs from my knees, or peeling dried glue from my hands, or pulling apart split ends in my hair, as I did it. It was like I had fired up my giant laser and began zapping the driftwood from my Twitter timeline with an unenforced glee. Really. It was that good.
I’m still doing it. I’ll see a tweet, think, ‘Fark me, that person sounds like a proper bozo. UNFOLLOW IMMEDIATELY!’ Or, I’ll see a tweet, think, ‘Hmm, I’ve not heard from such-n-such in a while, are they following me? No? SACRILEGE! UNFOLLOW!’ It surprises me how many people I thought were following me, actually aren’t! Bastards. Their loss. I know Twitter does this unfollowing glitch every so often so there may be some genuine technical error in there, but more often than not, I guess people get fed up with me and sidle off, with nairy a farewell. Pfft. Two can play at that game.
The plan is to keep unfollowing and see what I can narrow it down to. I continue to follow new people so my totals will dip and rise a bit. Yes, I know I’m thinking about this a bit too much, and no, I really have nothing better to do. I am cultivating a nice carapace of bitterness, y’see. When I’m a big as Bieber EVERYONE will want to be my friend.
Man alive, it’s like a farking school playground.
How do you play the Twitter game? Are you a serial follower, or do you wait for folk to come to you?
And if I’ve unfollowed you and you think this is a travesty and a farce, do let me know.
*thanks to Twitter people who helped with the maths. I can’t do maths. Maths bites me on the extraordinary arse