Member-only story
Read This & Vanish? Fuck Off.
If You Liked It, Why the Fuck Not Show It?
Alright, you goddamn content locusts, you drive-by readers, you fucking ghosts in the Medium machine. Yeah, I’m talking to YOU. The one whose cursor is already halfway down the page, probably looking for the TL;DR that isn’t fucking there because I actually expect you to read for two fucking minutes.
Let me paint you a little picture. We writers, we pour our fucking blood, sweat, and questionable life choices onto the digital page. We wrestle with words like they owe us money. We sacrifice sleep, sanity, and sometimes even personal hygiene, all to craft something, I mean anything that might resonate, or at least make someone snort coffee out their fucking nose. We bleed onto the screen, hoping to connect, to inform, to entertain, to make you fucking feel something.
And what do we get for our troubles? Fucking crickets. Tumbleweeds. Stats that look like the EKG of a particularly dead badger. Views, sure. Maybe. Someone’s eyeballs grazed the headline, their thumb did a marathon scroll, and poof — they’re gone. Vanished into the digital ether like a fart in a hurricane. But claps? Comments? That little digital nod that says, “Hey, I see you, you magnificent bastard, and this didn’t totally suck donkey balls”? Nah. Too much fucking effort, apparently.
