Pieces of Me Left Scattered, Ignored

One may chase money to survive physically, but may find a loss of voice, of hope, of connection leaving you just a mindless hamster on a wheel

The siren call of Medium drew me back like a long-lost friend. I had left purely for financial reasons — no matter how much I loved writing here, the earnings simply weren’t enough to justify the precious time spent crafting each soul-baring piece. I tried to replace it with side hustles, but nothing could replicate that sense of community, of kindred spirits connecting deeply through vulnerability tattooed onto the page.

I turned to news writing, churning out article after article simply to keep the lights on. With each headline, a little part of me froze inside. I became a writing machine, crafting up to 10 articles a day in my endless quest to chase the algorithmic dragon. Creativity withered into repetition; poetry deteriorated into propaganda. I sacrificed meaning on the altar of mouse clicks.

Now, in a very dark hour, I desperately need that sense of human connection back. As I struggle through painful personal loss, the support system I count on has buckled. Isolation wraps its icy fingers around my heart, feeding on my growing despair. I need to surround myself with people who can hold…