Well, dammit, I DID go, in the end. Cutting off nose to spite face? After all, there are so many lovely musical folk on there, and I found out about performances of whichI wouldn't otherwise have been aware. But the endless procession of hated faces being cursed - Letby, 30p Lee, Sunak, Braverman etc - was lowering to the spirit, and when along with endless gadget ads Marjorie Taylor Greene turned up in my feed, where the despised are usually only there because like-minded folk are shouting about them, it was time to go.
Nor are alternatives left. Mastodon proved hopeless, my guilty return to LinkedIn was terminated by another blocking - here's the post about the previous one - because my objection to brave Russians being arrested, imprisoned, tortured, even killed in Putlerland was classified as bullying. Would I recant? No. So I'm out of there for ever too. Do I regret it? No. Once the decision re Twitter was taken, pop-ins to pick up private messages showed how small and toxic a world it was, even if I didn't get the haters piling in. And when a supposed colleague lashed out at me over a criticism of an artist with 'who cares what you think?', I realised the headspace occupied thereby wasn't worth it. Much better to spend more time on this, reading, maybe even getting on with Prokofiev Vol. 2 when I return to health. And remember, Tweeters stuck in Muskville, there is a world elsewhere.
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