I don’t notice it at first.

The level rises slowly—like a background hum I can’t quite pinpoint. It’s not one thing, but everything: the engagement loops, the endless scrolling, the AI-written fluff pretending to have answers. A search that leads me to a site where the only purpose is to monetize my curiosity. Minutes of my time, gone. I feel cheated.

Even the smallest websites now come with pop-ups: cookies I don’t need, banners I didn’t ask for, demands for my attention when I have so little to give. Why does a restaurant need cookies just to show me their menu? It could have been static. Simple. Honest. The web shouldn’t make us feel this way—restless and drained.

I dream of something quieter. A place where sites don’t try to manipulate us. Where they don’t track our every move or compete for dwindling focus. A place where you can simply be, without the hum growing louder.

That’s what I hope to create: a quiet place. No noise, no tricks. Just words, written honestly, waiting for someone to stumble across them. Maybe it’s you. Maybe you need a quiet place too.

Let’s make more of them.