Friday, April 27, 2012

Agnes and The Twitter

New in my life is my image concern on Twitter. In fact, I think I have just created a new addiction opportunity.
For Example: Am I funny? Am I serious? Am I sarcastic or inspiring? Can you be a sarcastic inspiration?
Am I blond or just dull brown with highlights calling myself blond?

Or perhaps a new business. For Example:
Image Concern - the new holistic diet program that raises money for charities by making yoga mats that are produced from all the old food cartons from all the food you would have been eating.

Twitter is to blame for this ponderance. (I made that word up.) (I think.)
Starting Twitter, is a bit like meeting your future in laws or step children. You want to make a good impression, while remaining true to your self, while proving that you are worthy to be part of the family, while presenting your ideas without manipulation or self promotion. And you only have 3000 characters to do it in.

It is not an easy ride when you tweet. Look at all the eggs that are laid and not made into omelets. (There's a good saying to tweet.)
I feel inadequate when my under 100 followers meets a 70,000 person. I  feel daft when my comment referring to my black tongue caused by Oreo cookies is quickly replaced at the top by some wondrous meaning of life. I talk about exercise causing my earache, while others are meditating for world peace. And, oh the joyous honor of getting a re-tweet! That can make or break your day right there. The excitement when you get a new follower who you do not know, and the disappointment when you discover they are a stripper from Brockton who has free Walmart vouchers for you.
While using Twitter I have made new friends and some have been brave/drunk/wise enough to visit the website. Thank you for those that have and will.  Hence the dilemma; do they think I'm the other Jayne Hannah?  Will people understand my humor over subjects that are terribly overwhelming at times?  Will my poor knowledge of grammar and long words be a nail in my not yet built coffin of a writing career?

My inner critic I call Agnes, has a new poppy field to run through. She can stop a quick line of ten words, if I let her.
You know what? You cannot please all of the people all of the time. (Quick, tweet that saying.)
The only way to please your inner critic is by stopping what you love. (I made that up and yes you can tweet it.)
Be aware that pressure to be however we think we need to be, could just be fear, which your critics adore to get hold off. Whatever you want to write, just enjoy. That goes for everything you do.
All I can be is me, and a very honest me. I have a love of what people are up to and want to be part of the game. So I'm in, 100 % me, from my heart with a shy boldness. Thank you for accepting. If you unfollow, please do it kindly.

Now I did say, an hour ago, on Twitter that I was going to bed to read "Vintage Affair" by Isobel Wolfe. That was obviously not true, because here I am writing. I am not a liar, I promise. I did not intend to put my words before reading Isobel's words. Wow, this Twitter thing really does cause an issue!
And so it goes.

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