So, now that it looks like Twitter is really, for real, 100% this time, going to go under, here we are. The slow motion car crash that is the blue bird app is what brought me here, and I can assume brought many of the people reading this now, as well.
I've been on Twitter for 12-ish years, according to the anniversary pop-up that shamed me for wasting over a decade on a site that I love and hate and is slowly trying to kill me. In that time, I've seen every horrible thing a place like Twitter can cough up like a cat hacking a fur ball onto the rug. Awful things have happened to me and to acquaintances. Good things have happened, too. Frenzied, wild, up-all-night things, that you can only experience by the blue light of your phone at 3AM with a million other sleepless people. Real memories that I look back on fondly. I've been through it, posted through, came out the other side sometimes worse, sometimes better, but always in step with the...
I don't know. The verve of the place? The vibe. The mood. The culture. The Twitter culture.
The idea that we were doing...something. Saying something. Even if it was just screaming into the void at 3AM bathed in blue light because you had no one else to say it to, you were doing something. It was like carving our names in trees and making meaning out of the meaninglessness of an endless, anachronistic scroll.
So if Twitter goes away, what of the culture will remain?
What of the culture of Cohost?
The thing is, as I type all this, I don't know if I really participated in Twitter culture. At least, not the culture that I understood Twitter to have from my seat on the bleachers. I tried to keep my head down and not start drama or grift people. I don't do cults of personality. I shot my mouth off, sure, and I argued for or against things, but I never tried to make myself A Character on Twitter. I tended my garden, I handled my business, and you either liked me or you didn't. But that's the way I've always been. On Facebook before Twitter. On LiveJournal before Facebook. Even on Tumblr during my stint there in it's supposed glory days. I tell jokes. I run my mouth. I talk about art and craft and my thoughts and processes. I hoot and holler my work and the things I like.
So, what is Cohost...like?
Will I still be me on Cohost?
Who are we going to be on Cohost?
I don't know, but it's worth considering as we watch the bad old place we use to go to to talk to our friends drift away. Was it really so bad? Maybe not. Maybe it was worse. Maybe we have a chance to do something else here.