I've always wondered what tweeters -- ACTIVE tweeters -- are like in person. How does a full conversation play out with these people? And do they ever make eye contact with the person they're (supposedly) talking to?
The most probable answer is:
All active social media-ists are near non-existent in reality.
You choose your own platform in life, I suppose.
--
My platform has become this very couch I'm sitting on.
It's blue.
It's medium-sized.
2% cotton and whatnot, 98% love.
You could say that this couch represents the way I choose to live life now. It's comfortable and doesn't judge me for who I am, or what I happen to not be able to do.
It also allows me to watch A LOT of TV, in full pyjama gear.
To slouch down and write diary updates about LIFELIFE and everything I want to stop thinking about.
To relax. To eat. To give and receive hugs.
Final Wisdom:
Since stress and sadness and war and hate and jealousy and angst and delayed homework and societal pressure and general OCD is near inevitable; get a nice couch.
Your couch loves you.
Too bad it's not ACTUALLY my couch.
I need to make videos.
