Twitter is like the fruit bowl of life. There are some of us that are blemished, bruised and a little wrinkly but we are sweet and succulent inside. Whereas there are some who are glossy and polished but rotten to the core. Life reflects off them but it can not penetrate the sheen on the surface. I do not sit here waiting for your hands to lift me away from the bowl for you to throw me up and down adding to my marks. Where you choose that I’m not the fruit for you and toss me back in, I am still living and should be treated so. Or those who take a small bite, a tiny taste to see something more desirable and suddenly throw me away. I shall wait till someone comes with dextrous strong hands to cradle me and look after me. To devour me and enjoy all of my slight imperfections. To have my juiciness dribble down their chin and for them to lap it up willingly. We are all in the bowl but we are all slightly unique. If it’s this piece of fruit you crave and nothing else to quench your desire. Do you think about me morning and night, excited to touch, taste, consume. Will you enjoy every second, savouring the first bite to the very last? Choose wisely….