Tiny corners

The more I look around the web the more I’m convinced we should all treasure our own tiny corners of the web. My site is precious. Precious for me. It is mine to do what I want. I can build it, I can destroy it, I can shape it, I can let it rot. I can change it or let it stay still. I can make it super busy or let it go dormant. I can make it welcoming or hostile. I’m in charge of all those decisions and no one can come here and tell me what I should do with it. The only moderation rules are the ones dictated by my morals and I own the responsibility of my words. My name is on it, my face is on it. I write and say the things I want to write and say at this very specific moment in time, based on the person I am and the things I believe in, and no one can force me to do otherwise. There’s something incredibly liberating about all this.

This site is out there, accessible to the approximate 5.5B people with an internet connection—unless I’m banned somewhere, I guess. That is both scary and exciting. Because that means there are 5.5B potential random human interactions waiting to happen. Those are opportunities to grow, to learn, to discover, to share. Because for me the entire point of the web is to connect. It’s about personal expression, it’s about creativity, it’s about sharing openly. It’s about respecting others, it’s about listening, it’s about reflecting on what other people say. And all those things I believe are better done in a space I control, rather than in some soulless social media platform where my content is no different than everybody else’s.

Years of social media have managed to convince us that a scrollable timeline, a comment box with a characters limit and a like button are the tools we need to use to connect with each other. That is a big fucking lie and if you don’t believe me write me an email and I’ll be happy to show you.