Some Thoughts

the future...

I’ve been doing some thinking…

Substack has been sort of unbelievable. I’ve never really started anything from the number 0, zero, and seen it turn to a number greater than, say, 50. It’s a very funny website to make fun of, but seriously, I never thought in my life to see a number go from 0 to 1400, for like, writing. For writing! Thank you Chris Best!

Here’s the issue, though; — I don’t like the internet; — and it’s for one large evil reason; — it takes my time and bends it over. Writing Substack notes and posts are funny. I like them. They’ve been good to me. There are a couple issues, though. I don’t like the temptation of it. I don’t like the scrolling. I don’t like the blogging. I don’t like subscriptions. I don’t like how it occupies my mind, how when I think of something, I think, “I should post this.” There’s nothing really wrong with that sort of thinking, but it doesn’t sit right with me, I’m not sure how to explain it, I know a trillion people have said “social media is bad,” but I don’t think it’s that simple at all, and I know a trillion people have also said “I don’t think it’s that simple at all,” and it’s annoying to hear, and to say, but whatever. It’s not that serious.

I came here because I googled “where to post your writing,” and I wanted to grow an audience, and I did, and I didn’t think much further ahead than that. I like leisure too much. Posting is leisure. I should want to make bigger things. It’s a means to an end, the internet. I think you go insane if you don’t think about it that way. I don’t want to make the “means” the “end.”

I might do some “spring-cleaning.” I have to think about things this way, maybe I was dropped on the head, but I have think about my “posts” as “litter” to be “cleaned” every now and then, I don’t know why, it’s incredibly satisfying to me, what God would want, probably. An exercise in humility. Easy come easy go. Life is like that. What else is there?

I need to “lock in,” is what I’m saying, is how the youth would put it. I feel like I’m distracting myself for literally no reason at all. I want to make more books, more things, fantasy, fiction, poetry, whatever. Art, or something. I’m going to attempt to disconnect myself from the “means.” That was the point! Buy my book! No more small things, big things! Big things!