I’ve deleted my tweets. I’m deleting my favs. I’ve reset my profile. The only thing that makes me not delete my entire account is the single sign-on I have for a few websites, required access to the developer APIs, and the few friends I am contact with now and then via their direct messages.
Why? Because Twitter stopped being fun. 8 years and now 65,000 deleted Tweets later I decided to call it quits. All because it stopped being fun. My timeline was overrun with inappropriate ads, news that the world was supposed to end, virtue signaling from all political leanings imaginable. Unbased accusations left and right (hehe). I made it a habbit not to follow news accounts. But you can’t escape the bullshit on Twitter.
I assumed I’d keep my Twitter and tweets around as a monument to my boring life. Not to show the world who I was, but to prove to myself that I existed. Something like a diary. Something for my daughter to enjoy and read when I’m older. Something for myself to enjoy when I’m older. Even if I wasn’t using Twitter anymore. But no – even that got ruined by Twitter when they suspended the account of a deceased friend, because he auto-posted messages from the afterlife. And recently they suspended Robin Williams’ account. So much for that plan.
It was fun. But all good things must come to an end.