audience of one
I've spoken before about being a digital native who sucks at existing online. Here, sans the pressures of being perceived, I believe this blog to be coming into its own, though. Substack feels too high-stakes. It's a hobby that gets monetized to the point that it's either considered a legitimate side-hustle or a substantial full-time gig. It's difficult to not succumb to the compulsion to "make it big" on the platform.
Everyone who's anyone is offering glimpses of their inner lives online. It's nothing novel, of course. In fact, it feels more like a full circle moment than anything else. I'd imagine Gen Z has more in common with Tom from MySpace than it does with Elon Musk's X. (Hell, as a Millennial/Gen Z cusp, I have more in common with that whale error message that used to pop up when Twitter was over capacity.) (Remember when websites could be over capacity?)
I'm desperately trying not to be performative in this act of sharing slices of my life. Thankfully, this blog is so lowkey, there is no actual audience. No engagement or impressions to analyze. Nothing to really outdo myself on.
But then, why not a diary? I journal more regularly than I post on here, after all.
An explanation here, then, implies an audience, I suppose. This blog is simply my personal online echo chamber for now. At some point, perhaps, I'll share works in progress and the like. For now, you may play voyeur, but know my intended audience is me, myself, and I.