My brain is telling me this is almost unreasonable. The internet is crowded, content is everywhere (thanks, ai!), and video is king. My brain is also asking me if I’m not trying to build a business, sell you a product, or collect any revenue, why bother?
I guess my brain hasn’t heard, yet. I have finally decided that not everything worth doing on the internet has to be a side hustle or a revenue stream. It can be more. It can be a place to think, a place to remember, a place to scream into the void even when no one is listening. It can be a blog.
Social media isn’t for writing. It moves too fast. The algo decides what gets seen and who gets heard, what gets seen next, who gets heard next, and what gets seen after that. Then the algo buries it all and starts again. There is no time for cruising slowly down the road or marveling at the huge skies.
A blog isn’t the same at all. It’s an address. It is there when I return to it, and it’s there for as long as I want to maintain it. I can write what I want without an algo demanding I be more of this or that. I know a blog may not get as much attention, but the value is that it’s mine, and if you see it, and you say something, I know it’s because you wanted to – that you weren’t manipulated by an algorithm.
In a world filled with so much content that it often feels like I cannot breathe, like I am buried under all the information, a blog offers a place to look up from. A place to take a slow, deep breath and find the perspective that’s so often gone missing. And to me, that’s worth more than money.
I will publish my thoughts online because attention is a form of care, because a body of work starts with a single post, and because the internet is the best when ordinary people talk about ordinary things. It’s the care and understanding of those ordinary things that make us extraordinary. And no algo understands that.
That is why I start this blog in 2026.