Diagnosis: Brainrot

Did you know “proship” discourse is still going strong on Twitter?

Thankfully, after my main account was permabanned from Twitter, I decided to make the full switch to BlueSky. Instead of a thousand cocaine-riddled, showboating, rabid cuntbeasts constantly screaming around me, the discourse was more settled into reality. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still social media, but there was far, far less obnoxious non-issues constantly brought up on the timeline. Instead of having to hear someone scream about how reality checking them was ableist, I could finally just peruse art, calmly enjoy low-stakes conversations, and keep updated on current events without over-engagement from straight up Nazis.

Every so often, something would spill over into the BlueSky sphere and again I would have to look at the cuntbeasts cuntbeasting, but for the most part, it was a far away thing that didn’t have much bearing in objective reality. These were fake people doing fake things with their precious little time here on earth and to be frank: that just seems like it’s none of my business. If someone wants to be a miserable piece of shit on the internet, I say let them at it and leave them to it. Trying to recall the time before therapy, Prozac, and getting an actual fucking grip when I was a “Discourse Account” is like looking back into some dark period of personal history.

Now, looking onto Twitter at any latest “drama” for entertainment purposes is like walking through the zoo to watch all the orangutans throwing shit at each other behind glass. Recently, I’ve been trying to keep to the soap opera mess that is YouTube Tea (Who is Mikayla Nogueira? I don’t know but it doesn’t stop me from learning all about her fake Boston accent from some nosy YouTuber) because it’s far easier to parse through than a two hundred tweet thread argument between twenty people who can’t decide if their favorite anime demon is a pedophile. The thing is: none of this has any bearing in our personal lives. Whether or not some make up-caked girlie’s accent is fake or whether or not a drawing of a demon might be imagined as a lecher just doesn’t matter.

But.

Sometimes it’s interesting to look at. Though I must admit that sometimes I almost feel bad about wandering through Twitter, as if I’m touring an asylum to gawk at the inmates as they blather on in a word salad of therapy-speak and performative activism alongside hyperbolic violent fantasies such as “you deserve your fingers cut off for typing this” or “i will find you and I will fuck your father i swear to the holy god”. The Brainrot there is still strong and in the absolute worst of ways. The discourse accounts that couldn’t let go of their followers and engagement to make the switch elsewhere are still full-steam-ahead chattering about “proship,” and arguing with empty-headed children online about lines people draw on paper. Meanwhile, after having retired discourse for the most part, I’ve primarily been working on personal projects and collaborative works like NaZine II and some more sweet Omegaverse smut. I’ve found that having YouTuber drama on in the background while sketching out little Rudi the Twink Nazi poses and folding zines is just the better way to exist if you really do need your internet soap operas. It’s best to avoid Twitter all together. The temptation to add two cents is too strong there. Nobody needs your opinion. Hell, we didn’t need theirs.

Remember: Your projects and creative works are worth doing! Don’t let the brainrot disease suck you in and get you caught in arguments on the internet. None of these people are real. Just watch your soaps and leave it at that. Let other people make fools of themselves. We can just keep making.