Twitter is dangling by a thread.
By some estimates, it’s lost nearly 90 percent of its pre-Elon Musk workforce. Most recently, the billionaire owner fucked around, telling his remaining employees to either get “hardcore” or leave. And then he quickly found out: Roughly 75 percent of the staffers he hadn’t already canned, including those who reportedly run critical parts of the platform, chose the softcore life and ditched Grimes’ ex.
For now, Twitter remains up and running, but it seems quite possible it could die or fizzle out while trying to tread water with a skeleton crew.
That would be weird for me, personally. Though I’ve tried to slow down, I’ve spent a good portion of the last decade farting around on Twitter. I joined in July 2012 and have since posted roughly 25,600 times. Doing some back-of-the-napkin math, that puts me at about 6.2 tweets per day, which frankly was less than I figured. Twitter defined a “heavy” tweeter as someone who logged into the app six or seven times per week, and tweeted three to four times…per week. So yeah, a “heavy” tweeter is putting up rookie numbers, in my opinion and experience.
Which raises the question: Should Twitter really die — which is an open question — what in the world will I do with all that free time? Because even when I’m not posting, I’m always on Twitter. It’s a constant open tab during my workday. It’s my mindless scroll while watching TV. It’s my journal for truly stunning, hilarious, and typo-laden observations such as:
and of course…
So…what now? Well, I’ve brainstormed 11 ideas for what I could do with my time if Twitter well and truly dies. Feel free to steal these for yourself if your mind, too, is poisoned by the bird app.
1. Try once again to learn how to play the guitar.
Honestly though, I’ve tried for years and it’s hopeless. Do we really think this effort will finally be the time I get past the first four chords?
2. Cook even more than I do now.
Frankly, I’ve already cooked most days for nearly three years since working from home. But sure, I could get even more unnecessarily complex with my dinners.
3. Take up woodworking.
Might be hard to do in a Brooklyn apartment but, you know, seems fun. Ron Swanson likes it. Sure, I might choke on sawdust, but at least my brain won’t be turned to oatmeal by social media. Doing something with your hands feels nice.
4. Become one of those comic book dudes.
I feel like being super into comic books is basically studying? Like, there are different timelines, and lore, and histories, and yada, yada, yada. Maybe I’ll put my Twitter energies into becoming one of those people.
I like jogging. I could just do that.
6. Commit to living in the moment.
For ten years, I’ve lived, at minimum, a two-screen experience involving some combination of: laptop and phone, TV and phone, or iPad and TV. Maybe, with Twitter gone, I could unplug from the mainframe. I could stop and smell the roses or, rather, the piss-soaked NYC sidewalks. (Same thing.) I could look at the sun setting each evening, feeling deep gratitude for the love in my life and the good fortune to be in that exact location at that exact moment. I could live with my feet on the ground instead of my eyes on a screen.
7. Take up yoga.
I’ve never been flexible.
8. Pace around my home, whispering my tweets into the ether like little secrets to the Lord.
Today’s Thursday is giving major Monday vibes. Made some eggs for breakfast. LMAO my neighbors are blasting Phoebe Bridgers on Friday night — we love a depressed comrade.
9. Get really into chess.
Seems like an interesting world these days.
10. Post on TikTok instead.
I know that’s where everything is going on these days, anyway. But I’m a millennial and the dangers of being impossibly cringe on TikTok are strong. Besides, short-form video isn’t the same as being an idiot on Twitter. But I could try, I guess.
11. Stare at the wall.
Who knows if Twitter will die? But my wall isn’t going anywhere. ‘Til then follow me @timmarcin.