"The Caged Bird Tweets"

THE CAGED BIRD TWEETS

“I tweet, therefore I am…”

Mixing Descartes with modern technology.

I read that tweet and thought it was cool.

At the time.

Hard to believe those words once inspired me…

… to steal a smart phone.

I wanted to tweet something back.

Don’t judge me too harshly.

Desire to respond based on a curve not on a scale. 

Curve based on our world being a shallow pool.

My attempt to reply that day didn’t happen. 

The phone I stole didn’t have a twitter account.

I now have a twitter account.

On a phone I guard 24/7

I’m afraid it could get hacked.

Here is my reply to that original inspiring message. 

“I tweet, therefore the person I tweet for…

… doesn’t come off looking like an idiot.”

What do you think?

Definitely not profound.

Neither is what I do for a living.

You’re reading these tweets because the actors…

…singers… reality stars… everyone you follow…

… aren’t profound.

They don’t even have a voice of their own.

At least not one worth following.

But you’ve been following them.

So you should know…

… I am the one who is their voice.

I Tweet about what is happening in their world.

Not my world. 

Their world.

And their world is your world.

When exactly did this happen?

I don’t have an answer.

I’ve lost all track of “when” some time ago.

I feel as if I’ve done this forever.

How did everything become about them?

Not a problem if you don’t have a response.

Just don’t be a troll and tweet – “It is what it is.”

I will track you down with a flame thrower.

All these years my job has been to tweet.

Obviously what I do I do with brevity.

Intelligence is priority number two.   

Humor is in the mix.

Sorry. We need to go backwards.

I forgot a major part of the plot.

Nothing I tweet can lead to blowback for a client.

I can’t believe I forgot that part.

That part consists of at least twenty paragraphs…

… of the contracts I sign with all my clients.

Each tweet should have wit and snark.

Those two requirements not part of the contract.

More like unwritten expectations of my services. 

Oscar Wilde would have made a fortune. 

He could have afforded a better solicitor.

Though he would not get credit for his bon mots.

Forget what I just sent about Oscar.

He would have lasted less than a week doing this.

My tweets are clever jibes… acute observations.

And deep emotional thoughts.

The deep tweet is my specialty.  

Thanks for all your re-tweets of my deep tweets.

A deep tweet is what I tweet whenever…

I can’t stress and pressed for time.

Like when I have floor seats to a Laker game.

The hardest part?

Every tweet I tweet for them…

… I’m losing another piece of myself.

Sitting here now, I have no idea who I am.

All my tweets have been about them.

Who is that staring at me in the mirror?

I only recognize me standing next to them.

In front of the same mirror.

Those I tweet for cast a shadow.

It leaves the rest of us in darkness.

Invisible.  

You don’t know me. I certainly don’t know you.

Which doesn’t make any sense at all.

All of the tweets I wrote were with you in my mind.

I should apologize. But I can’t right now.

I’m not in the proper space to make that happen.

I can’t believe you made no effort to discover…

… the TRUTH.

Did you believe what you read was from them?

From the “SUNBURNED”?!!!!

That’s what I call those that hire me.

The Sunburned are those under the spotlight.

Flood lights, camera lights, and somehow a light…

… even when no one is around.  

24/7.

Be beautiful. Be sweet. Be available.

That’s all you ask.

Give me a break.

I didn’t think it was possible.

I’m actually feeling sorry for them.

Who could live up to that?

Your expectations.

Your demands.

Are you all insane?

All the lights make it impossible to see your faces.

They will never know your names.

None of them can even remember mine.

Sweetie… Honey Baby… and… You.

That’s what I am to them. You’re even less.

I should have skipped the above.

This is not about them or you.  

This is about me.

I can’t spend another day wearing this mask.

The demands you make of them, they make of me.

“Tweet something!”

Here is my ALL CAPS reply…

DO SOMETHING I CAN TWEET ABOUT!

All caps is no longer an option. 

Those I work for can no longer hear me SCREAM.

This is my only exit from their world.

Henceforth, every word I tweet will be me.

I’ve become obsessed with a single thought.

What would my life be like if…

The very first tweet I sent was… 

“I tweet therefore I am me.”

Who would I be?

I don’t expect you to understand.

Who amongst you could understand?

After this tweet there might be a break.

I need some time to figure out…

Me.

Without them.

Without you.

Just Me.

And my tweeting future.

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