I wish I knew what you were thinking. Because I don’t, however, I am going to pretend that I do and say:
No, this is not a tribute commemorating Twitter’s x amount of years as being a strong branch on the social media tree.
Whether Twitter has been around for 100 years or 3 months, I think that the certain trends in how it has been utilized would probably never have changed. A post on The Grumpy Giraffe addresses the overreaching theme of individualism so much so that is borderline cult-like; and it is that very theme that has undermined our own communications to the point where talking to oneself (about oneself) no longer has a bad rep just because it’s done digitally.
When a bird chirps (on Twitter, that is) it comes as no surprise that the sounds rhyme with me-me-me. Yes, there is a time and place for exemplifying all the amazing things going on in your life, but there are times and places where…well, you might already know.
Regardless if you have or have not celebrated your very merry unbirthday on Twitter already, chances are that you know someone who has.
And still does:
The one who is kind of funny, but his or her 1-2 tweets averaging every five minutes is no longer a laughing matter–God forbid–those tweets are sent to your phone.
The one who feels the need to share every Instagram and Tumblr photo, anything ranging from unsightly battlescars to their pets and babies.
The one who seems to be the aspiring gossip columnist.
The one who has been abducted by spam (looks like you’ll just have to catch that person on Facebook then).
The one who speaks in robot, symbol and heart language.
The one redundant over-poster who is human…maybe half-human, half-Hootsuite scheduler.
Twitter created its following feature with the sole purpose that what is said on Twitter could be heard, and this goes both ways. It is simple: Read. Listen. Read some more. Repeat first 3 steps.
Everyone has a birthday. Hopefully everyone has been sung to at one time or another. As for the ones who in turn are singing the modern unbirthday songs to themselves at the top of their lungs from the branches of social media in its happy digital roots, birthday or unbirthday, the image I get from that is just kind of weird.