A blog? In 2024? What’s the point of sharing thoughts in a place so far removed from modern social networks? It’s like sending memories and ideas to a remote, inaccessible post office, where no one but a few isolated travellers will read the contents.
The internet now resembles a giant billboard: the ingredients for a carbonara recipe are hidden behind a bunch of Amazon Prime advertisements. Last night, a reel abruptly sucked you into 30 minutes of doomscrolling. You got into an argument on X with an anonymous account that turned out to be a ChatGPT bot. In the midst of this storm of stimuli, does it make sense to carve out a quiet space to let a bunch of imperfect, probably grammatically incorrect, human-made content flow freely?
Time will be the judge of this: let’s roll.