Yes, over the weekend — I became a viral queen and it was super weird and utterly freaky.
I was stomped because the tweet in question was sent about a month and a half ago. And at that time — nobody really paid attention because I’m not a social media superstar.
Nothing really has changed since then.
I don’t have legions of followers who hang onto my every tweet. I don’t make Twitter my makeshift home as I dodge bullets of verbal violence while also building and protecting the incubator of my brand.
Nah. I just tweet whenever I feel like it and aside from the awesome readers who give my pieces a shoutout every now and then — my page isn’t as dynamically inclined as it should be.
Am I lazy? No. I just have a hard time subscribing to the religion of a metric system that is supposed to unequivocally confirm how viable we are as human beings.
That being said — when the tweet about why Kendall Jenner and Gigi Hadid can’t possibly measure up to the gems of my era suddenly began to gain traction at rapid speed — I was stunned but also elated.
Goddamn! These many people actually give a shit about what I have to say and are eager to let me know about it?
What the hell is going on here?!
My friends exclaimed with glee that the tweet I had sent awhile back had been resurrected by the news item that paired Kendall Jenner and bestie Gigi Hadid — against Stephanie Seymour. The 90's staple evidently backed my claims and took things steps further.
The editorial team behind Moments obviously did their homework and found the tweet that basically summed up the sentiments of the issue.
I was one of three entrees — handpicked to stimulate the conversation. But the contributions of Carson Daly and Fashionista.com couldn’t hold a candle to my brilliant summation of why supermodels is a term that cannot be applicable to the current It Girls of an industry that has tragically lost its compass.
Okay. Not so sure I am comfortable with the idea that my tweet was so amazingly sculptured — that it needed to be plucked from obscurity and given the adulation it didn’t garner during its inception.
The process of watching the robotic ritual of your thoughts being feted at the behest of a faceless commander who deemed it appropriate for view — is an uncanny experience that I guess most should endure.
At first l was quite flattered to know that my opinions were a global standout.
Somehow I had tapped into something that apparently hundreds of people who agree with the low grade I assigned the two gals of the Moment — couldn’t resist.
It was fascinating to be transfixed to the virus I had implemented with no agenda in mind.
As the night wore on — my drunken stupor enhanced the wave of transients who were paying homage for the Moment and disappearing the next.
Yes, it was awesomely lovely to feel like the belle of the ball as the numerical game of basketball had me scoring without fail — which in turn encouraged observers to click in their approval and admiration.
I became hooked and incoherently weathered to a fiery status that I knew would cool down eventually.
So, I decided to milk it for all its worth.
I’m currently wiping away the stray drizzle that doesn’t annoy but also doesn’t comfort either.
To date — I ended up with a total of 848 likes and 365 retweets.
For a novice like me — that sounds astronomical and quite impressive when you consider the length of time and the premise for the recognition.
It was fun to feel relevant in a landscape that works overtime to retrieve the opposite in order to inspire us to revert to the robotic nature of things.
That mission is on course and there is no doubt that eventually the numeric system will outdo anything we as humans can imagine.
We are on the verge of extinction.
In the meantime — we are tasked with making do with the clicks of validation that assure us that we are capable of being heard — and heard some more.
The branding and marketing of things requires a level of commitment that I’m trying to evaluate for personal efficiency.
When you are in the Moment — there is something palatable about the way your eyes flicker each time the numbers rise and taunt you with the possibilities of your newfound fame.
Maybe this viral tweet will lead to editorial emancipation. Perhaps, I will finally inhabit the burrow reserved for verified folk who know how to manipulate the rules of engagement in ways that freeze my outdated service.
Could it be possible that this is my big break? I will finally be welcomed with open arms for who I am — and not what I am failing to emulate?
What I gathered from my weekend of celebridom is that it does encapsulate the renderings of why being social on social media can lead to the misleading notion that you are in fact worth the Mention.
By God — if legions of users have been generically steered your way — then by golly you need to enjoy it while it lasts
Because days later — you will check your page and be blinded by the reality of the dwindling numbers — and the exact figure of the ones who decided to abandon ship after they hailed you their captain.
I’m almost there — except for some reason the tweet I unleashed with the link to the piece I curated months ago — about why Janet Jackson doesn’t fucking need The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame — is now the talk of my Twitterverse.
When I conceived that article — I was feeling my way as a newbie writer without the armor of an assigned publication. The number of recommends were regulated to a maximum of 4 and a minimum of 0.
But I was still assuaged by the fact that somebody took the time to read my work by leaving their goodwill towards people like me who write for the thrill of it.
I wish I could be a renowned content strategist because that would mean more money in the bank and retweets from Shonda Rhimes and Oprah.
By the way — you don’t have to be somebody in order to get Ava DuVernay to notice ya. She rocks!
But she’s also the minority in a structure that was funneled to weed out the inferior from the superior.
This past weekend — I was the MVP of the weektrend Twitter and it was fun and interesting.
It was also distracting and annoying as the ongoing attack of validation challenged me to dream of ways of making this unexpected glory stretch out as far as it could go.
That’s not me. Twitter’s Moments capitalized on a tweet that helped instigate more rhetoric towards the red hot subject.
At the end of the day — Kendall Jenner and Gigi Hadid profited immensely from all the hoopla they continue to garner.
And I end up with last call followed by a testimonial that pits me against the giants of a landscape that I could conquer if I wanted to but I’m too damn lazy to try.
I like being the renegade against the formation of retweets, favorites, and moments — that capture your best work without the ultimate reward.
I made bank! And yet I have nothing to show for it.
That freaked me out.
But at least I have the tweet about Janet to help mend my wounds.
Till next time — Twitter!