There are solely two sorts of tweeters: winners and losers. The winners are nonetheless on the platform, profitable. The losers … properly, they’ve misplaced. They are the Sad People for whom Twitter was a second house. They discovered affect there, and validation. Now they need to, per their tribal allegiances, go. Go the place? Anywhere else! Some are outraged. Others, depressed. All are embarrassed—and embarrassing. This is, from worse to worst, what they sound like:

“bye.”

“Done with this hellsite. Peace.”

“That’s it. That’s the last straw. This is me, signing off Twitter forever.”

“SUBSCRIBE 👏 TO 👏  MY 👏  SUBSTACK”

“Thanks for the sh*ts and gigs. I’m @[x] on Mastadon.”

“Should I leave Twitter? Poll:”

::Overused Homer Simpson GIF::

“My time here has come to an end! See you on Reddit.” 

“Some ~personal news~: I’m leaving this garbage fire bird app.”

“Friends! Countrypeople! Bots! I will miss you, but the time has come …” 

“UGH. Why can’t we have nice things, fam? See you ON MYSPACE TEE HEE.”

“Looks like the party is over! I’m out.” 

“I don’t have a SoundCloud, but …”

“::searches hopelessly for his LinkedIn password::”

“What if—and I can’t emphasize this enough—Twitter was toxic the whole time?”

“It’s been real. It’s been fun. But it hasn’t been—actually, you know what, Twitter *was* real fun. I found community here. I found love. This was a good site. Fuck Elon Musk.”

“So I guess I can finally post my nudes.”

“Done with this hellsite. Peace.”