Cloying idealism

      Originally, the first post was planned to be something entirely different. I wanted to introduce everyone to my new endeavor. The opening paragraph – a hook to snag some random internet stranger: there, I’d recall the Slowpoke meme and joke about how you’d have to be a complete moron to create a personal blog page, since everyone knows the peak experience these days is making Minecraft machinima. Then I’d introduce myself, talk about what I do, and at the end – a perfect spot to throw a fit about how much I miss the old internet, free from Reels, TikToks, and those recommendation systems that always shove cheap dopamine down your throat. Wrap it up with a manifesto on the freedom and purity of this web page from brainrot: here would be a quiet, secluded spot where I’d leave my notes on science, quantum computing, PhD life, travels across the US, maybe even my Homeland’s politics if I get bored with living, and, of course, how to make proper cottage cheese at home – that’s important, believe me. Perfect ending, curtain falls.

      But then I decided to shelve that idea for later, because I got fixated on a quirk: the comment system I hooked up is crap, and everything needs a redo. First off, it’s inconvenient to comment from mobile devices, which is probably how people will be reading my posts anyway. Second, not enough self-expression; people clearly need emojis, or it’s game over – who wants comments without the option to drop a funny GIF? No emojis = less interaction, less interaction = fewer responses to posts, fewer responses = lower reach, lower reach = lower reach. The whole business empire crumbles before it even starts; I’ll have to stay a no-name, deprived of the 21st century’s prime resource – publicity. Gotta fix it. Went off searching how to bolt on emoji sets like the ones on Twitch or Telegram. I even started terrorizing chatbots to figure out how to make it happen. Meanwhile, the clock hits 8:40 pm, and the post still isn’t written. Something doesn’t add up.

      No, everything has to be perfect, otherwise don’t even bother starting. That’s how the eternal battle for sanity rages in my head. Only after realizing I’d veered off into the weeds, as usual, did it dawn on me: there it is, the perfect first post. What readers, what reach? Even if something like that enters my life, the first post, whatever it is, no one will read it anyway. It’s like the first videos on popular YouTube channels: exotic fare for those curious about “how it all began.” So I decided to make the post egotistically for myself, leaving a timeless artifact-reminder. After all, everything I’ve tackled before has hit the same wall of idealism and frustration – take that YouTube channel. It’s really sad when new ideas keep popping up in your head, and the next morning you convince yourself they were wrong, underdeveloped. You ponder how to fix it, but even that doesn’t save you, because the more time passes (for me, it’s counted in days), the closer you get to realizing: “And the original idea was shit anyway.” Then you decide to start over, and the cycle resets. Sounds like a script for a 2000s rom-com with Adam Sandler, if you jazz it up in the right places.

      What’s the way out of this mess? Stick to things you can pull off “here and now.” By the way, posts like this fit the bill perfectly: writing and editing something like this can take less than a couple hours. I know that in a few days I’ll definitely regret this text, and it’ll seem like I should’ve written it all differently – that’s when my cloying idealism awakens. But that’s future Kolya’s problem, not mine. Still, in that case, it’s unclear how to handle long-term projects.

      Here at the University of Michigan, where I’m a PhD student in the computer science department, we have the chance to participate in professional coaching. Like any other average Ivan from post-Soviet lands, I’m extremely skeptical of any kind of therapy or mentorship; over here in the West, people take it seriously. At the university, these professional support methods are offered for free. I figured: gotta try it, experiment; maybe the reflection sessions will play a positive role. I’ll probably write about it in more detail sometime in the future, if I decide the practice is useful (or, conversely, a total waste of time). After a few sessions, I can say that discovering something fundamentally new about yourself is elusive, but verbalizing and reflecting still gets your brain churning out new ideas and solutions. This blog is my way of battling self-criticism, among other things.

      The hypothesis is this: the more often I publish here, the duller that urge for revisions and changes will become. The goal – overwhelm the cloyingness with sheer volume of shitposting. Well, it’s an idea.