deactivate

I love(d) twitter like I love Finnish licorice and winegums and soy vanilla lattes that taste just a bit too acrid and peanut butter popcorn.

But I can’t derive any value from the constant info-flood, the constant buzz of the hivemind forking in thousands of different thoughtpaths, only to degenerate into a static whitenoise occasionally punctured by catgifs and witty, angry quips, all packaged into 140 chars.

I hit deactivate. I don’t regret it. The withdrawal symptoms will come later, when the idle brain is looking for fresh distractions. Then, I think I’ll open up that book on OCaml I’ve been meaning to read. Or read about brainf*ck or Pietr (esoteric programming langs I’ve been meaning to try out).

If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

And more importantly, does the tree really give a damn?