Midnight Pub

18. The Frustration


I hadn't been to the pub in a few days. I'd taken some time off to settle down at the headquarters and get the ball rolling on various projects.

Things were going smoothly. I was learning to cook. I had launched LibreKrsnah FM or Radio LibreKrsnah, and had consistently gone back to streaming two special sessions everyday. I was spending my time on the important things. And I was happy.

The pub was eerily quiet at this time of the night. I set up my laptop on the table in the corner and checked my sites. Some of the links on my homepage were broken. Vulpes proxy wasn't working. Neither was Gemini on Nightfall City.

I could feel the frustration setting in. A few weeks ago, the Peertube instances went down. Just when I was about to upload some videos and link 'em to my articles, the instances went offline. I emailed the admin and got no reply.

I kept a record of dead sites. The list was growing longer every month. On average, one site went down every month or two, and never came back. It was gone. Forever.

Why did the admins kill these projects so quickly? These were all indie projects. They were never going to get an avalanche of users at any given point in time. They were brought to life because they were unique and special in some way. They were different. They didn't have the mainstream corporate hodgepodge crap full of ads and a million lines of TOS and privacy policies.

Sometimes a project needs to be kept alive simply for the nostalgia and memories. You don't need a million unique visitors coming in everyday. Even one guest per month is a good sign. If somebody, somewhere, thinks your project is worth looking at, then you should be satisfied.

The mainstream networks full of likes and comments have made people so attention-hungry, that they're not willing to accept anything less.

What good is a project with a million likes and half a million positive reviews, if, at the end of the day, it still looks and works like a big steaming pile of horse shit?

I wondered if my stream of thoughts made sense. Well, it made sense to me! And that's all that mattered.

I sat back and set a countdown timer to see when the sites would be back online.