Goodbye Twitter, it's been nice

Dear Twitterverse,

There's no point in dragging this out any further. I can't do this anymore. I can't take this shit Twitter life for another second. Seeing all your happy faces every day, carrying on about your great TV shows, sports news, contests, meal specials, all of it...while I sit and rot on the Internet, with nothing to say about people I'll never meet or how nice the weather is wherever Ashton Kutcher is. And your special lingo that's hip to make fun of for the next two weeks, with your "tweets" and "followers" and special apps. It's fun for two more weeks, until every has a Twitter and it's not funny to make fun of something everyone has and the cacophony of constant life updates drowns out any semblance of a meaningful life.

Everyone will have a Twitter.

Except me.

I'm not asking you to change. I just need out. I liked how you asked "Was it something we said?" when I deleted my account. But really, it wasn't something you said. It was something I didn't say: Namely, not having enough going on in my life to justify having a Twitter account. I'll still be around, checking feeds here and there, sort of haunting like a ghost. Actually, that's a pretty accurate analogy. Let's make that happen.

So that's it. I'm shuffling loose this Twitter coil and ending it all. Don't be sad. You still have Josh and Worm and DSB and Shaq. You'll be fine. Carry on and say "That's what Ryan would have wanted." Because it is.

Cherish each Tweet. I'd say that I'll see you around, but...I know I won't.

Ryan