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Tomorrow is psyche guy, not to be confused with psyche guy, lol. I've been calling my psychologist 'psyche guy' for years. My psychiatrist always comes out as 'my psychiatrist' because it cracks me up saying that. My ~psychiatrist~ (said in high fashion sunglasses with a pinky up holding a martini). I feel pretty Jeff Spicoli lately, so I haven't thought very much about my psyche guy visit this time. A couple years ago I was on countdowns between visits and hanging on by my fingernails through some pretty hellish stress after holidays. Last year I was taking the year off because everything was clicking for me for awhile, and I didn't care that my brain fell out over holidays because it always does. This year I got through pre-holidays like a boss while all my kids and their kids were here for the first time in ever and then brain crashed all over Christmas and beyond, thanks to a very sudden out of the blue overload trigger. I've been laying on the jagged river rocks ever since, purging my soul again, watching a broken world float away, slowly noticing the things around me starting to unblur. Sounds dramatic, but it's mostly about crying in dark rooms. Writers practice making everything sound cooler than it really is. Truer words would be that I spent Christmas day on through New Year's processing through missing my mom and all the things we never got to share, and why.
Had a good talk yesterday with a friend who ignores twitter completely about the whole twitter soul jerk thing, because that's what it is, isn't it? If you're going to use a twitter account, you gotta be able to take the rough stuff, like the first thing you see waking up being another icon being tweeted freshly dead a bazillion times in every conceivable fashion and then being tagged all day long with other people expressing their sorrow or paying their respects, and the only way to get through it is ignore everyone and just trailblaze on through. I refuse to get sucked into the shock trip over and over and over, because that's what twitter is, isn't it, one continual shock trip burning our eyes out in between being silly and arguing and more cat gifs than you ever knew existed. I'm all for group mind, but this we've all gotta go into shock thing together- NO. Hell, no.
I still remember when this guy died. It was a true shock because he was so young and I was really upset because this was my fave show when it happened, and he was the main character. The world has mostly forgotten him now.
Trailblazers do things other people aren't doing. They don't follow crowds around like schools of fish hanging onto shirttails. That sentence is incongruent. It may be good for sales to brain train groupthink, but it's not good for my soul. It's always going to be something, and it's always going to be someone, and it's always going to be me trailblazing through the incongruent shallows looking for the deeper undertows, because THAT is where all the good stories are.
I like twitter for touching base. It's handy for real time checkins and the fastest way on earth to know #allthethings and probably the most efficient way on the planet to channel like minds together. As a social psychological construct, it highlights groupthink experimentation and spotlights the obvious in ways no other social media can. But. There's always that but, isn't there?
Me and twitter irl.
