Posted on September 1, 2025

They told us writing was dead. That no one reads anymore. That if it can't fit on a reel, a slide, or a TikTok, it doesn't matter.
But they were wrong.

I still write—and not to chase likes, or feed algorithms, or become an influencer. I write to reclaim something they've stolen: our attention, our agency, and our ability to think clearly in a world addicted to the next swipe.

The Rise of the Dopamine Dealers

Look around. The platforms that promised connection now pedal compulsion. They're engineered not for truth, but for tension. Not for clarity, but controversy. They thrive on the quick fix—the flash of outrage, the sugar rush of affirmation, the numbing scroll that never ends.

This isn't true connection; it's content farming. And the harvest, unfortunately, is our very minds.

Big Tech doesn't care if what you post is true, thoughtful, or brave. It cares only that it's seen, shared, and emotionally charged. Substance is punished, often reduced to a viral soundbite stripped of its context. Stillness is starved. Nuance is buried beneath noise.

Why I Choose the Page

Amidst this relentless chaos, I deliberately choose the quiet rebellion of the page.

I write to:

• Reclaim my own voice, not rent it to a platform.
• Make sense of a world that too often makes none. Through writing, I wrestle with the contradictions and complexities that social media so easily smooths over, finding my own understanding in the process.
• Speak slowly, when everything else is screaming.
• Tell the truth—especially when it's complicated, uncomfortable, or inconvenient.

Writing isn't old-fashioned. It's defiant.
Each blog post is a refusal to be gamed, branded, or sold.

What They Can’t Monetise

They can bottle your data.
They can feed you curated rage.
They can nudge your attention like cattle through a gate.

But they can't make you stop and reflect.
They can't force you to write.
And they sure as hell can't own your story.

If You’re Reading This, You Still Care

And that's why I keep going.

Because someone, somewhere, still values a sentence crafted in truth.
Still believes that meaning matters more than metrics.
Still wants more than what scroll culture serves up.

I write for them.
I write for you.
I write to remember who I am—and why that still matters.

So no, I won't trade my soul for swipes.
I'll keep showing up on the page.
Unplugged. Unfiltered. Unafraid.

Because against the dopamine dealers, writing is resistance.

What acts of resistance are you willing to embrace?