My first exposure to Twitter was nearly a decade ago as a method of propagating Facebook statuses. Since I used Facebook very little (and since deleted it), it didn’t resonate with me. Shortly after I realized that it was a method of pushing small thoughts outside of my head.

As a writer, this meant that I could push out those weird bits too short to write down (rather, short enough that I deluded myself into thinking I would remember them) but long enough to create a thoughtful idea to retain. Ideally to others, but ultimately something I could look back on at the end of the day. However, the best part of twitter is how fluid it is, how “in the moment” it is. The difficulty in searching anything more than a few weeks old only reinforces the momentary notion of the ideas posted.

Without qualification, the worst tweets are ones that span more than one tweet. Any concept that takes more than 140 characters is not bad, it is just not meant for the medium. Eventually you get into the mind of other writers well enough that shorthand takes place, much like knowing crossword puzzle authors and the way they compose clues.

And this means the ideas of a person become necessarily separated from the writer. Which you would think would be perfect for an artist, but somehow, Twitter has created an ideology of “hate their personal ideas, hate their art.” It’s a mindspace that’s proven much too easy for me to get trapped in.

Despite this I rarely think before I push something out there. Even less so when I retweet someone. The Twitter persona is unaffected by the recklessness, just another facet. (It also contributes to a kind of weariness towards those who rarely tweet)

@scearley (Luscious Dick Tacoma) lives 18 inches above the Columbia River

 editor's note: if you'd like to be featured in a future TWEETPOETIKA plz send an inquiry to other(at)queenmobs(dot)com  (and, wink-wink, it might be nice to include some of your tweets!!)