Last night I lost a dozen or so followers after a tweet about my ass. I just happened to notice this because of those stupid numbers on Twitter that show us how valuable we are to the world. Or at least, I think that’s the only reason they exist – to feed our egos and tell us lies. The reason for the mass unfollowing was probably the result of a mass following in the first place. Earlier in the week I published a post on the I Love You day experiment we do every April 4th.  Naturally, even though I had a disclaimer about not trying to be an angel, many people followed me thinking I was a guy who spread love all the time. 


But I’m not. I’m me. I’m a cynical writer who is a fallible being but who is real and who has thoughts that don’t adhere to or conform with any singular ideology (if it wasn’t obvious, the name of my blog is intended to be ironic). Some days I’m happy. Some days I’m angry. Some days I like to chat. Others, I don’t care to talk with or hear from anyone. Maybe I’m a freak, after all I am a writer, but I like to think of myself as being a human who consumes the full spectrum of life and its experiences. 

After being on Twitter for three years, the people who scare me the most here are those who stay the course on one particular topic and never waver. Ever. That’s complete bullshit.  It’s robotic. Fake. You want to follow these people, more power to you. But just realize that they’re human beings too and experience all the ups and downs of life just like you – regardless of what they tweet. If you ask me, these people, despite the numbers, are inauthentic automatons.  But hey, if that’s what makes you happy.

And you know what? I don’t give a damn about the numbers. I learned a long time ago that nobody can please everybody. You want to unfollow me – go. Seriously, I don’t care. I used to back in the old days, but have grown thick skin since then. Today I’m unapologetically me. I don’t care if you don’t like that I tweet about the state of my ass or not. I don’t give a damn whether you think me posting a picture of my dog or of my kids is a waste of your time. You know what – I don’t like that you retweet shit that has been said over and over and over again in a feeble attempt for you to gain more followers to pump up your fake credibility.

I’ve been meaning to write this post for a long time – and decided that today (#followfriday) was a good day to do it. And I know what you’re saying, ‘But if you don’t care – you wouldn’t have written it.’ But the fact is, I really don’t care about followers on Twitter or anywhere else. I have lived my life for the past 20 years by the words of a dead poet, ‘To thine own self be true.’ I’m totally good with myself as a fallible beast, and the people who matter the most to me love me for my sincerity. I may not be the nicest, fluffiest or smartest guy in the world – but I’m nothing if not sincere. 

I only took the time (15 minutes if you want to know) to write this post because no one ever does.  And to me, that seems weird. 

So have a nice day. And, as always, thanks for reading my words and allowing me into your head. 


Jim Mitchem


I Love You
Forced Perspective

Jim Mitchem

Writer. Father to daughters. Husband. Ad man. Raised by wolves. @jmitchem on twitter. First novel, Minor King, out now.