Substack was a great choice for me a few years ago as a publishing platform because it was free and small and effective. My Ascetic Years did not permit excessive apps- Instagram was a giant concession. I had very little and found myself uniquely placed in the middle of my life to start my public voice over, from a designated mindful square. That overview worked well for awhile. It’s felt inauthentic and glib the last many several months, though. To patch my dearth I thought I’d offer an unplanned heartfelt blurb and a few poems as the representative sum of my output in 2024. And i thought I’d do that here.
But Substack kind of actively sucks since it went app. Literally all i want from a publishing app is the push button ability to easily post my writing. Ideally as originally formatted. I don’t need or want subscribers or tips or monetization. I definitely don’t need Twix lite, the Substack/Notes app. What i want from a giant orange plus sign at the bottom of my home page to do is publish a post to my newsletter. Not twxeet a Note to other Notes readers. We are now advertising the writing before it fucking exists.
Meanwhile, half of the poem was cut off in the final despite perfectly complete preview. We all know there’s editing crossover concerns with all these platforms and shingles but you know what? It shouldn’t fucking be that way. If my actual intelligence can deduce what parts must be placed where what way to comprise a complete piece, I expect at least on par performance from the artificial one.
Will I blame what was probably bad writing anyway on this infuriating, unredactable double? You bet. I too wish to believe in the ease that lies past excised excess. As of now I see a society of artists and aspirants just hauling ass away from the depressive position, bolting towards cyber-nirvana by Xeno lengths. Somehow dummying up the whole by a collection of indicators. Squelching The Thing Itself.
Better off doing it all by hand.
...well naturally I am curious about the other part of the poem......