substack evolved into something else. something that felt like content creation. sign up to make content. what does that even mean?
i joined substack a few years ago in the hopes of writing more. i had just lost my friend of six years, who was my heart and soul. moving through such agony and sadness would be writing through it. i joined, made a post and...that was it. two years later, i started writing more.not to gain followers, not to gain traction. just to write.substack evolved into something else. something that felt like content creation. sign up to make content.what does that even mean?
there's a nostalgia in the early days of social media where it was moments shared, not staged content to sell a narrative, a product, a subscription, a service or pushing certain ideologies.
substack initially felt like a space where writers could write and share. with every platform, comes a point where they lose the essence of what made them special, and begin copying each other.
vine, twitter, periscope, instagram, tumblr, tik tok, substack – all platforms where people created, shared, formed a lane, community, connection. spaces that with imperfections, folks could connect with one another.
such platforms vanished or evolved into tools of surveillance, where certain content is encouraged, and others censored, squashed, suppressed. where we, the writers, artists, creatives--are the product. our data is surveilled, collected and sold. our privacy, constantly violated. i started writing because of what i couldn't say, would flow with ease from pen to paper.
i'll miss substack and the brilliant people i followed who post their essays--sharing their thoughts and words of what's going on in the world, and their world. i'll miss it for what it used to be--and i hope for folks who have something to say that adds to making this world a better place--continue to write no matter the platform.
yas j·