“Remember where you came from, where you’re going, and why you created this mess you got yourself into in the first place.” Richard Bach, Illusions

Where I am coming from?

Writing is thinking. Writing in public is yearning for connection amongst the vast emptiness of noise. It is a call to action to escape the void. I confess it is an effort in hubris of my own frailty against the tides of AI and attention scarcity. It is merely an act to self-preserve. When all is forgotten and forged in a digital pile of graves, you and I witnessed us!

What I aspire

I am an optimistic contrarion and believe that a better future while possible is not probable without our collective and deliberate efforts. We are trading aesthetics for efficiency, letting power assymetry grow, whether its state vs the individual or the unchecked extractionist behaviour of bigtech. I wish a revival of the golden era of the free internet. Free as in freedom. I hope I can find friends and overcome my intellectual loneliness. I hope you find an idea resonating with you here.

The mess I created

The Noiseless Patient Spider By Walt Whitman

A noiseless patient spider, I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated, Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding, It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself, Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you O my soul where you stand, Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space, Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them, Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold, Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul

Where I’m going This poem is a metaphor on the human condition. From isolation, seeking a connection. The metaphor indicates what we strive for, flinging ourselves in different directions yet patiently doing so until one of the flings can hook us to some grounding.