To Tweet, or not to Tweet?

To Tweet, or not to Tweet, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous trolls,
Or to take arms against a sea of randos
And by opposing, end them. To quit— log off,
Touch grass; and by log off to say delete
The heartache and the thousand dumb replies
That flood the timeline from the worm-filled brains
Devoutly to be wish'd. Touch grass, log off;
Remove, perchance delete—ay, there's the rub:
For once in real life what takes may come,
When we have shuffled off this old account,
Must give us pause—there's the respect
That makes calamity of online life.
For who would bear the whips and scorn of feeds,
The bots that flood the timelines, the replies
That mock our thoughts, the pangs of getting ratio'd,
The insufferable ban from Elon's hand,
The spurns that patient merit of the worthy takes,
When he himself might his resolution make
With a final keystroke? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something IRL,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action.