Diomede T.

Writing for Myself

Sometimes I get the urge to write about what I'm doing or what I've discovered. But since I stay away from social media, it usually ends up going nowhere, the urge gets ignored until it builds up again.

Right now, that urge is boiling over again, and I remembered: I have a website. This website. And even if no one reads it, I can still write on it, and that's enough.

So, I’m reclaiming a bit of control over this dusty corner of the interconnected world to dump my words, rants, and thoughts into this little space of mine.

A while back (maybe years ago, actually), I read about a concept called a Digital Garden. It's something in between a blog, a notebook, and what some might call a "Second Brain" but with fewer notes, and more curated, crafted ones. I'm going by memory here, so the definition might be off, but that's the version that stuck with me. And that's the idea I want to cultivate (pun intended?).

Even though a proper Digital Garden seems like too big of a commitment right now, nothing's stopping me from trying and maybe, this time, sticking with it. The other times I tried to restart/recreate/revamp my personal website, I always said:

This time I’ll write one post a week. It’ll be wonderful. Everyone will read it and I’ll be rich.

I grew up when blogs were the backbone of the internet’s learning infrastructure. YouTube didn't existed yet. Videos were self-hosted and played in custom Flash players but no one made educational videos. There were DVDs, though. The cool technologies were shared in written form on the blog of the author, or on blogs that curated content from multiple writers.

So, back then, having a schedule and writing good content about what I learned (and what others could learn from me) felt like a necessary part of the process.

Now?

Now I don't fucking care if anyone reads this blog.
I don't care if it's useful to anyone else.
What matters is that it's useful to me.

If I want - or need - to write something, I'll do it here, get it out of me, and that'll be enough.

If this Digital Garden takes shape, maybe it'll be weird. Maybe it'll be cool. Maybe it'll rot. Or maybe it'll thrive. It might smell or a gentle breeze might pass through. However it turns out, one thing is certain: it will be mine. And it will be made for me.

I don't need to end with a sign-off for the reasons above but I want to. Maybe it's for my future self. Who cares.

Bye. See you next time.