Updated: Nov 11, 2019
This is my journal from day 5 of my 7-day suspension from Twitter. Actually it's not a complete suspension: I have some of my capabilities limited: I can read, but not write. I can block but not follow. I can't like or retweet.
There is an element of relief not to HAVE to be around every single day, doing the play-by-play of these INSANE news cycles. But a real 'vacation' is impossible.
The first realization of this mock-jail time is that, in my case, it really kills your voice. It's a incredibly painful reality-check on the prisoner's ego. You are famous *in Twitter*. Once removed from that context, you pretty much disappear from everyone's radar.
It's not like I didn't know of that risk, because I saw it happen to Thomas Wictor, a great writer that I much admire. Once booted from the madhouse Twitter, he was left with a much diminished platform and follower-base.
If it happened to TW, it was bound to happen to me, to a much larger degree. Here I am, in my blog, pretty much writing to myself. Looking in the mirror, and knowing that all the fruits of 2 years of good work can be taken with a snap of the big-tech finger.
Jailbirds have all the time in the world to moan and to complain, right?
A few weeks ago, when I wrote my Godfather 3 thread, I got a bad cold and, for the first time in my life, *I lost my voice* - literally. I could not talk. It took me weeks for it to come back.
I always knew that to mess with the biggest Godzillas was not gonna be a walk in the park.
The last day was probably the worst, because my IT guy bungled a simple job and left me 24 hours without a computer - AND THE TREASONOUS BRAZILIAN SUPREME COURT RELEASED CROOKED FORMER PRESIDENT LULA FROM PRISON. I had no voice, I had no battle station.
And they freed motherfucking Lula.
A dark day. Up is down, left is right - that is their game, that is their world.
I may be the jailbird, here, today - and the Super Corrupt Damned Criminal may be scot-free, but that'll change.
Twitter Jail, November 9th, 20129