Why

Maybe a fear of being judged, and the debilitating fear of wasting away my prime years.

I get tired easily, yet this clueless soul still searches for life’s unanswered questions with wonder. Endlessly scrolling through the rabbit hole of dopamine fuelled by algorithms where all life’s answers seems to be answered albeit superficially; where an entrepreneur banters that life’s lessons need to be learned in First Person. We cannot expect our teachers, parent, and the education system to teach us the hustle of life. A fact that I always suspected but the inner cynic always doubted.

I still remember the day I came to face the wonders of the Internet. The information highway came to life with the sound of dial-up// does anybody remember that? Maybe I’m getting old.

Buying the bulky volume by Andrew Tannenbaum with my hard saved money could’ve been a turning point but the medusa of hormonal urges had other plans.

From Orkut to Facebook seems like a generational leap yet I was a front-row spectator of it. Facebook, an inspiring upstart at the time with none of the junk that entailed Orkut with its Javascript hacks and funny comic sans Esque scrapbook entries. You say I can upload unlimited photos as albums from my family gathering and school events and people will pour “likes” like there’s no tomorrow. Gimme a break. :|

Yet exactly it happened. We got tangled into a web of Clout chasing and Facebook decided to expand to each fucking crevice of the internet. Now we are accountable to a Mega corporation’s toll charges that have given rise to the wonderful alchemy like Cambridge Analytica.

Marketing and Commerce and Novel endeavors but when the means to an end decides to commodify human interactions and experiences the world starts to feel cold and misreckoning.

So what does this bumbling pumpkin want to say?

Well for starters I want to publish a bunch of rants unencumbered by the conventions of social media. Where my delusional ramblings don’t afford an audience. A place where algorithms and peer endorsement doesn’t dictate my voice. A space on a tiny footnote of the internet where I can say I exist.

Welcome to my blog.