I Am Not Content

At some point we stopped sharing our lives and started packaging them.

I’m grateful for every person who takes the time to read my work.

I absolutely love writing these articles. I spend a ridiculous portion of my day writing, and somehow I still can’t wait to sit down and do it again tomorrow.

Every like, comment, share, and subscription means more to me than you probably realize.

If you’re able to become a paid subscriber or hit the support button, it helps keep the lights on and lets me keep doing something I love.

If you can’t, take care of yourself first.

You’re always welcome here.

If you don’t, being here, reading, sharing, restacking still means more than you think.

If you want to support directly:

Photo by Jovan Vasiljević on Unsplash

I Am Not Content

At some point we stopped sharing our lives and started packaging them.

I don't think I want to be a brand.
Unfortunately, I have a logo.
So we're already off to a complicated start.

I understand why personal branding exists.
I write online.
I want people to read what I write.
I want more subscribers.
I would very much like writing to continue keeping the lights on.
So yes.
Titles matter.
Pictures matter.
Tags matter.
Promotion matters.
I participate in all of it.
But there is a point where something starts bothering me.
At some point the internet stopped asking:
What do you want to say?
and started asking:
How do we package you?

Find your niche.
Stay consistent.
Know your audience.
Develop your brand voice.
Post at the right time.
Use the right format.
Keep people engaged.
Be recognizable.
Be predictable.
Apparently the ideal human being is now a television channel.

I contain multitudes.
Some of them have terrible scheduling.
One day I want to write about God.
The next day I want to complain about subscription fees.
Then artificial intelligence.
Then warehouse workers.
Then a pickle.
Apparently this is bad branding.
I think it's called being a person.

The algorithm would probably prefer if I picked a lane.
Faith guy.
Politics guy.
Funny guy.
Working-class guy.
Self-reflection guy.
Choose one.
Remain there.
Become easy to categorize.
Because categorization is useful.
If the system knows what you are, it knows who to show you to.
It knows what advertisements belong nearby.
It knows what box to put you in.
Very efficient.

I don't want to live inside the box just because the box has excellent analytics.

We do this to ourselves now.
Every meal becomes content.
Every holiday.
Every relationship.
Every opinion.
Every breakdown.
Every recovery.
Every morning routine.
Somebody drinks water at 6:14 a.m. and apparently I need a cinematic video explaining the journey.
We don't just experience things anymore.
Part of us stands slightly outside the experience wondering:
Should I post this?
That's weird.

You go somewhere beautiful.
The light is perfect.
For one second you're completely there.
Then:
Phone.
Picture.
Another picture.
Vertical one.
Maybe video.
Now turn around.
Do it again.
And suddenly you've gone from seeing the sunset to producing sunset assets.

I'm not criticizing anyone for taking pictures.
I take pictures.
I'm criticizing that tiny shift where life stops being something you're living and becomes raw material.
Content.
I hate that word a little.
A painting is content.
A song is content.
A confession is content.
A war is content.
Somebody's dog falling off a couch is content.
A person explaining the worst day of their life is content.
Apparently everything humanity produces has been compressed into the same beige container.
Content.
Something to keep the feed moving.

And the feed must keep moving.
That's the important part.
You can never simply make something good.
You need another one.
Tomorrow.
Preferably today.
Actually, could you post three times today?
The machine is hungry.

I know that feeling.
I write constantly.
I think about what I'm going to publish next while I'm still publishing the thing I just finished.
There is always another article.
Another Note.
Another image.
Another way to reach people.
And I love writing.
That is what makes this complicated.
I don't resent the work.
I resent the possibility that something I love could slowly become something I'm feeding.

There is a difference between:
I have something I want to say.
and:
I need something to say because it is Tuesday.
I want to protect that difference.

Because creativity gets weird when every idea has to justify itself.
Will people click this?
Will this perform?
Is this searchable?
Is the title strong enough?
Should I make this shorter?
Longer?
Angrier?
More inspirational?
Put Jesus in the title?
Apparently even my soul needs A/B testing.

Sometimes the correct creative decision might be:
No.
I'm not posting that.
I'm keeping that thought.
I'm taking the walk without photographing it.
I'm reading the book without reviewing it.
I'm having a conversation that never becomes an anecdote.
I'm making something badly and showing absolutely nobody.
Revolutionary behaviour.

Privacy used to mean people didn't know things about you.
Now privacy almost feels like having experiences that aren't monetized.
Things nobody measured.
Things nobody liked.
Things nobody commented on.
Things that happened and then simply belonged to you.

I think rebellion might look strangely boring now.
Turn the phone off.
Read something slowly.
Make something without selling it.
Change your mind publicly.
Refuse to develop a consistent aesthetic.
Write about God on Monday and ducks eating your bank account on Tuesday.
Confuse the algorithm.

Especially confuse the algorithm.
I like that.
Because algorithms need patterns.
Humans are inconvenient when we keep becoming somebody else.

I don't want to become easier to predict just because predictability is easier to monetize.
I don't want every strange corner sanded off because one version of me performs better.
I don't want to discover that somewhere along the way I stopped asking:
Is this true?
and started asking:
Will this work?
Those are not the same question.

And yes, I want subscribers.
Absolutely.
I enjoy electricity.
My landlord has remained stubbornly committed to money.
I am not pretending I exist outside economics.
But there has to be something underneath all of that which doesn't belong to the market.
Something nobody gets to optimize.
Something that remains mine.

Maybe that's the part of ourselves we have to protect now.
The part that isn't useful.
The thought that doesn't become a post.
The hobby that doesn't become a side hustle.
The walk that doesn't become a photograph.
The opinion that doesn't fit the brand.
The person who changes.

I don't want to be perfectly consistent.
I want to be alive long enough to contradict myself.
Learn something.
Change something.
Abandon an idea.
Become embarrassed by something I believed five years ago.
That sounds healthy.
A brand hates that.
A person should probably do it regularly.

So I'll keep writing.
I'll keep posting.
I'll keep trying to find readers.
I'll keep learning how all of this works.
But I want to remember something while I'm doing it.
I am not a product being optimized.
I am not a demographic.
I am not an engagement rate.
I am not a niche.
I am not content.
I'm a person.
And I'd rather be difficult to categorize than easy to sell.

If this piece did something for you—made you think, feel, or even pause for a second—I need your help.

This is what I’m trying to build.

If you have the means, becoming a paid subscriber genuinely helps me keep writing like this consistently.

If you don’t, being here, reading, sharing, restacking still means more than you think.

I’m on most social media as Leo thee Lemon. Feel free to find me.

If you want to support directly:

With gratitude,

Leo thee Lemon

Have typewriter, will travel.