Yesterday I hit 36,000 tweets.
And then froze.
36k thoughts thrown into a wasteland, drowning in a sea of noise.
In our NYC apartment today, the heatwave has broken. Our windows are open and finally there is relatively fresh, cool air to clear the mind.
The filters and screens should get washed at some point.
36 thousand.
How many blog posts would that have been? How many opportunities lost? How many love letters, fights, reconciliations, recoveries, triumphs, diaries lost to the spur of the moment? Thoughtless entries on a platform where in 30 seconds people have forgotten what your avi looks like?
Instant gratification,
like a tightly packed bowl, one that made us so sweetly stoned off our assess for 10 whole minutes at a time back then, that helped us forget that thing we did,
is useless.
A legacy is not built on tweet followers or Like counts.
Ice pops cost $0.50 for a reason.
