Closing the Screen | Lies by David T. Shank
I'm not the best at Twitter. I'm objectively not the worst, and I've certainly gotten better at it, but there's a lot of room for improvement in there. As such, I don't exactly get bombarded by notifications. Which is a little sad sometimes. But this is mostly my fault. I live this sort of half-existence online. I try to not spend as much time on the Internet as I do, so I don't actually make an effort to do anything that's going to tie me there for longer than it needs to. So I lurk. And when I post something, I sit around waiting for replies, likes, retweets, anything. And it's not just Twitter. Anywhere I can post and reply to things and get a little red dot next to an inbox (sometimes with a little *ding* noise) I'll sit around and just wait. It's excruciating. Sometimes I think it's killing me. Because once you put something out into the world, it's hard to just let it go. You know who's out there on the Internet. They're great, they're fun, they're smart, they're funny, they're