Twittery tales

Everyone is talking about twitter. It seems to be the latest fad, much like the word "shenanigans", which seems to creep in every other review and blog post. Including this one.

But I digress.

Twitter, twitter, twitter, the lesser said the better. It works, and it works well. The authoritative post on why twitter works is here.

I have taken rather well to it. It makes things easier, given my ADD-type behaviour, and because I am always doing ten things at once. As much as I would love to spend time on IM and write long emails, it's getting increasingly difficult to focus on work. Most often than not I just need a quiet little space to share links and tools, debate and have short discussions which are not about the weather :). And to record (and broadcast?) the stream of consciousness. And banter. It's perfect for that. I love the delightful randomness of it all.

The constant flow of information could be overwhelming. Constant tweeting could cause a drainage of ideas, what will you blog about then? I have no idea how people follow tweets from 200 odd people, and have 100 updates a day. I am already confused at 20. Plus, the twitter ego-system is yet to evolve fully for me to figure out what's right and wrong (much like we figured, at some point, that writing in all caps on IM was rude)

Right now, since it doesn't have the penetration, twitter is not diluted. Believe me, even orkut was clean and fun and nice five years ago. Most people are discussing ideas and tools, and not people. Not too many personal updates either, and thankfully, no leetspeak. But I am afraid it's a matter of time before people start murdering grammar to kill time.

But till that happens, I'll write about my life and times in 140 characters or less.

Indulgence

Ooh, I was digging up drafts and I found this. This one written in late Jan sometime:

--
The one indulgence I allow myself year after year, is writing the birthday post. (Dig up archives you curious people) And this year, I missed the birthday post! I missed the opportunity to write a deliciously self indulgent post about the discovery of another strand of grey hair. Ah, old age... we really should leave it to the kids.

So, today we were having this conversation at a dinner. And everyone claimed that they had no idea where the last ten years went by. I thought it was strange, for I remember having felt each day giving me gooseflesh as it passed me by. I told them that. They thought it was strange. I am miles away from where I was at 18. Ten years is a long time! I have lived, I have grown, I have learnt. And I can say it with no bitterness.

And yet, they ask me to grow up. I heard that four times last year, one for each quarter perhaps. "Grow up", they said "We are waiting". Why should I?

Maybe they are just jealous.

Joker

"Sometimes I remember it one way, sometimes another, if I have to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple choice"

One always want to enter the book loving the hero and hating the villain. That's how it's meant to be, isn't it?

For the record, I am not a graphic novel fanatic. Yet.
I bought the deluxe edition of the "The Killing Joke" only because it looked beautiful on the shelves, and I fell in love with the glossy shiny pages. I also seem to have lost the patience for reading books. It took me three weeks to read the last one which was only 200 pages long, and I had already watched the movie. It's temporary, I tell myself.

Fool's day

Today was good. Awesome, even.

I was surprised with my own enthusiasm.

Was off gtalk. And Facebook. And Yahoo. And all other social stuff.
Checked feeds only twice.
Listened to Bowie.

Sent a few emails though.

All too weird, I know. Who am I trying to fool?