trying to get back into the swing of writing
Did you know I have three Twitter accounts? The first one—@hmx5—is my original account, created because I wanted to follow NASA’s Mars lander back in 2008, and I didn’t know I didn’t need an actual account to follow it. I got Q to join and, with it just being the two of us following each other, we thought it was a lot like texting (“I’m headed to the bank, you wanna meet for lunch?”) and we already had phones for that.
It wasn’t until 2009, early 2010 that we decided to give it another try. I’d read an article called something like: If You Don’t Get Twitter, You’re Not Doing It Right, and that’s how I learned the ins and outs. Q and I shortened our usernames from our entire names that took up too many important characters and found cool, funny and informative accounts to follow and read.
When yeah write began on my free fringes blog as “lovelinks,” I created a separate @freefringes Twitter account because I didn’t want my hard-won followers at my hmx5 account to stop following me whenever I was tweeting the grid or recruiting new subscribers. And, well, when lovelinks outgrew my personal blog and became its own life force at yeah write, I created yet a third account. @yeahwrite was taken by a Twitter squatter, so I had to settle on @yhwriteme and that’s okay most days when I don’t stop to think about it.
I don’t tweet much from @hmx5. It’s primarily used as my news, sports and politics feed. I read it several times a day, certainly when I’m curious if President Obama is ever going to send me and his 4.6 million long-term unemployed Americans back to earning a living wage. The yeah write account is still for yeah write subscribers although while there, I will tweet as a person as opposed to a “brand” so the poor people who accidentally followed that account without knowing anything about yeah write won’t get entangled by constant blog promotion.
Then there’s the free fringes account. I am free to be myself there more than anywhere. No one in my family is on Twitter except for the occasional cousin and my teenage niece, but they know only of @hmx5. So it is there I can complain about my mother or be darkly funny or do anything that could otherwise start a civil conflict offline. It’s my refuge.
Until certain uber privileged tweeters conflate global struggle and bare subsistence with their FedEx packages arriving late at 10:31. Then I’m just cranky. I can’t turn to my news and politics because even though that’s actual depressing stuff and not “Neiman Marcus sent me the wrong color $300 shoes” depressing, it’s still depressing. And there’s only so many times a day I can invite new writers to hang out at yeah write. So I get stuck. And sometimes I remember: hey, I have a blog—I should go write.
(Or I should close my laptop and go clean the kitchen and mop my floors, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves)
There’s no reason why this new space, the replacement for my hacked blog, cannot serve as my new quiet place. I don’t have to teach anybody how to write a cohesive narrative every time I open it, I don’t have to soothe anyone’s ego as they are protesting how people like them who live in 30,000 sq ft houses have problems, too. I don’t have to do anything but write.
I actually tried last night, unsuccessfully, to import the posts from the hacked blog into this space. Q can’t probably figure it out, but he does enough for me, his family, his job. No need to tack on another project just so I can have oddly irrelevant posts sucked into this space that has all of 18 posts published. I’ll let them go for now. Maybe forever.
I’m coming to write. If you’re here, I’m guessing you’re here to read. Once I get back into the swing of things, I’ll get more comfortable and figure out where this will take me.
Until then, hey hey there in comments…