Melanie Lampro

2013: My First Steps

When I joined Twitter in 2013 it felt like arriving at a half-built frontier, wired together with 140 characters. Every post was a challenge, pushing us toward wit, brevity, and invention. The usual suspects were there. Outlaws testing limits. Snake-oil sellers hawking miracle cures. Self-appointed lawmen trying to keep some kind of order (a task about as easy as herding cats). Drifters passing through with one-liners that somehow stuck.

And above it all, the coveted blue ticks formed a constellation of validation.

The Original Purpose

In the beginning, you could not apply for a blue tick. Twitter handed them out, pinning tin stars on public figures so we knew who was deemed “real” and who was just pretending. Later, they opened an application process; then they closed it; then they reopened it. A swinging saloon door of possibility.

2017: Pivot to TEMPLESPA

By 2017 I launched a second account for my work as an independent TEMPLESPA Consultant. The outpost grew. The 280-character upgrade gave us space to breathe. Hashtags glowed like beacons. Retweets carried our voices far beyond our own small circles.

2022: The Takeover

Then the outpost changed hands. In October 2022, a new sheriff rode into town. Elon Musk bought Twitter. Whole crews were cut. The station felt different. The promise was freedom. What followed was less stability. Misinformation spread faster. Moderation faltered. The lights flickered. And the blue ticks became a token you could buy from a vending machine. Drop in a coin, twist the brass dial, and a blue disc clattered into your hand. Mass-produced. Paid for. Still carrying a trace of magic, like a cereal box prize. But never the same.

2023/24: The Rebrand and the Rules of the Outpost

By 2023 Twitter was no longer Twitter. A new name arrived. The bird emblem was scraped from the outpost and a stark X was pasted in its place. By 2024 even the gate had changed, as twitter.com rerouted to x.com.

Not everyone stayed. I considered leaving, more than once. I took breaks. Customers left. Friends left. Favourite accounts shut down. The familiar town-square rhythm was gone, replaced with something colder, louder, more fragmented.

Timelines tilted toward those who paid for prominence. The old balance between voices felt skewed, and finding the conversations that mattered took more effort than ever. The outpost still crackled, but not in the way it used to.

2025: My Umbrella

My band, Braver than Fiction, stepped away as well, leaving their account dormant. They chose other stages; Instagram and Facebook (places I do not tread). My own personal account is mothballed too. One voice is enough, and @MelanieLampro is where I have chosen to stake my claim.

So why am I still here? Because the spark has not gone out. Real-time news still leaps. Conversations still catch fire. Nothing else feels like it. I have reshaped how I show up. What began as many voices now gathers beneath one umbrella. Characters and causes, Piskeys and fairies, even the dog by the fire; they are all part of the same camp. One banner. One glow that refuses to fade.

Dare We Dream to Prevail?

People like me are part of what you might call a dissident network. We oppose the platform’s new ownership. We do not leave, and we do not endorse. We stay and resist from within. The aim is simple: hold space for kindness, positivity, and meaningful conversation; be a beacon for those who feel silenced or pushed aside. Our loyalty is not to the company but to the community we built. Stalwarts of a strange outpost, keeping the lights burning.

Prevailing was never simple. This is not about toppling a regime or forcing a return to the past. The structure and algorithms belong to the owners, and they tilt the game at will. Success looks different here: raising awareness; shining a light on practices that deserve scrutiny; building community; offering refuge. We may never win in the old sense, but our presence is resistance. Our strength is persistence, keeping the lights burning when the night closes in.

Why X and Why Not the Others

Other settlements never felt comfortable for me. Instagram is too glossy. Facebook too intrusive. TikTok is glitchy chaos. Pinterest is beautifully overstimulating. YouTube is too busy. They all have their merits. They are simply not for me.

Ads

On free platforms I grit my teeth and scroll past the ads. Paying to strip them out on X feels wrong in my bones. So I pay for WordPress instead. Not for me; for the people who read me. A clean page without flashing distractions feels worth it.

WordPress as the Anchor

If X is the noisy orbital settlement then WordPress is my archive dome. Quiet and steady and ad-free. No account needed to step inside. It is where I keep the maps and the records and the lore. If the outpost ever burns, the archive still stands.

The Circus Continues

There will always be hucksters. They promise miracles. I see them every day. Supplements. Cures. Shortcuts. The same old patter in a new suit.

There will always be ringmasters too. Looming silhouettes on high balconies. Switches and levers and knobs behind them. Spectacle in front of them.

But there will also be campfires. Small circles that warm the cold. People swap news and care and jokes. Sparks rise. Some fade. Some become more.

Why I Also Stay Creative

Not new to this. A degree in English literature shaped the way I write today. The craft was learned the long way round; as a graphic artist, a copywriter, and a content provider. All of it before AI, and some of it long before the Internet began to shape daily life.

These days, I share space with fibromyalgia. The fog and the stiffness and the pain in my fingers slow me down. Dyslexia and dyscalculia have always been there too, but the fog makes them worse. Errors slip through. Energy drains. Hands seize up.

AI helps me counter that. It is not cheating. It is continuity. I have always blended tools and tradition. Watercolours with graphics programmes. Tablets with paper. Voice dictation when a pen will not cooperate. AI is just another dial on the console.

It means I do not have to stop. I can still paint. Still write. Still build. I can show up in the noisy outpost of X and keep the archive dome glowing.

Where I Land

• I will stay because I love what Twitter once was and I still see its sparks.
• I will not pay for Premium. I tested it and found no value.
• I will keep building here. One image. One thread. One Piskey-powered post at a time.
• I will keep WordPress as my anchor because permanence matters.

The bird is gone, but the conversation still twitters in this strange outpost: half Wild West and half space station. For now, so do I.