Thread by @FrogCroakley

Today’s a pretty special day to me, and it’s special because of a really good friend. He’s called @Daniel_Barker: it’s his birthday today, and it *still* feels odd to type his twitter handle because of what happened on this day four years ago.

In 2015, @Daniel_Barker made a joke tweet about how not enough people were wishing him a happy birthday. Daniel is a very sensitive, self-critical fellow, so this tweet was adorably out of character:

https://twitter.com/daniel_barker/status/554950732538212352

At the time I was quite depressed, and really not doing well at all. But I saw this tweet of @Daniel_Barker’s, and decided to do some weird happy birthday tweets at him. He was a funny guy I had met once or twice, and it seemed reasonable. It gave me a little spark of joy.

It was still reasonable the next day, when I decided to emphasise my commitment to @Daniel_Barker’s birthday wish by tweeting further birthday greetings at him. It was probably still fairly reasonable on the third day, and arguably on the fourth.

At some point in the next ten weeks, it became… unreasonable. My birthday wishes to @Daniel_Barker quickly took on a weird narrative, and became compulsive. People were avidly following them as the story developed, and writing them became the highlight of my days.

I’d been unable to write for years, but suddenly it was spilling out. Every morning, on the bus to the job I hated, slightly hungover from the misery wine I’d drunk in my mouse-infested flat the night before, I’d fight down anxiety by tweeting about @Daniel_Barker’s birthday.

And best of all, @Daniel_Barker became my friend. At first, I was just regularly checking to make sure I wasn’t just bullying him by writing insane SF fanfic about his birthday, but before long we were chatting every day, & he’d pop round to my house to eat stew and watch movies.

The birthday story became a viral flash in the pan, and drew the attention of @rebellionpub, who offered me my first book deal. 3 years later, I’d quit the grim job, left London, and begun writing full time. It was a legit career-starter, and I kind of owe it to @Daniel_Barker.

That was good and all, but the real treasure was @Daniel_Barker himself. Not only was he sweet enough to indulge what was - let’s face it - the ravings of a man fighting off a mental health catastrophe, but he stayed in my life once it was all over.

I’ve honestly lost count of all the thoughtful things @Daniel_Barker has done for me and @glitter_brawl. He has been a consistent voice whenever I’ve needed one, and has provided me with one of the only emotionally honest male friendships I’ve ever managed to find.

So on January 13th, I’m always going to think of @Daniel_Barker, who let me borrow his birthday so I could use it to escape a hole, and who went from being a fun twitter person to being one of the most important folks in my life. He’s a fundamentally good human being.

A silent plain, thick with dark and dust. Deep in the black, a flame flickers to life. A candle, illuminating the greasy wasteland of a clown’s face from below. But the clown is smiling. “Happy birthday, @Daniel_barker,” whispers the ravaged jester. And this time, he means it.

(For old times’ sake, or if you’re new to my account, the entirety of the original @Daniel_Barker birthday story is archived here - it’s a little glitchy, but it should all be readable still!)
wakelet.com/wake/9e8e55ee-…

(There was also a completely berserk real life party at the end of it all thanks to @Wangleberry & @Glitter_brawl, where 100 odd people had a complete rager dressed as apocalypse clowns and ill leopards in a basement. @daniel_barker cosplayed as himself. Pictured: @Brainmage)