Nine years, huh? More than a quarter of my life, spent on the blockchain formerly known as Steem, now known as HIVE. I often reflect on my time spent on chain as opposed to in chains; while I continue to unravel the various mysteries of existence, expression and exhaustion. ![SP_25713_ (6 of 10).jpg](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/holoz0r/23uQJQ8Rz9HipzRZrwLiq5A9Fa37xwxB5f9ZMXvWRLv5vGSNYsEGeRRhXiD5hjavwcVnB.jpg) @holoz0r, lit by me, shutter pressed by someone else, July 13, 2025. But after all this time, I am not burnt out. I am not tired. In fact, at present, as I type this, I more enamoured with creating than I ever have been. I'm happier than I've ever been. And as I write this, about two weeks before the milestone comes, to be published on the day of the milestone, I wonder that when I reread this, on that day - will I still feel the same way? I recently went through the list of accounts that I was following. I unfollowed about 150 accounts. One hundred and fifty people who had not published a post on the platform since 2023, and so many others that had powered down to zero without a trace for years and years. I visited the accounts of a few, to see if they were still making comments, or if there were a few scant traces left of their digital identities. I explored LinkTrees, looked at instagram accounts, or followed broken links. Over one hundred and fifty accounts and their ideas, their aspirations, their dreams, gone from this platform. Had they lost their keys? Had they lost their lives? Even worse, had they lost *hope?* There was once a steemain who just did that. Every year, in September, I think of her, and I come to think what they would make of the world today. They were one of the first friends I ever made on the platform. That was @lauralemons. They're *gone.* Not in the sense of fled from the chain, but they've fled from existence and from cognition. They're dead. That was years ago. How many other deaths am I not aware of? Did those people I unfollowed recently perish in the intervening years? @strega.azure, I hope; is not dead. She [drew a portrait of](https://peakd.com/hive-158694/@strega.azure/human) me. I [expressed ](https://peakd.com/hive-158694/@holoz0r/re-stregaazure-rwv18z)interest in owning the physical object. She sent it to me. I appreciate it like little else in my house, narcistic as that may be. It hangs quietly in my hallway, outside my wife's study. It's a beautiful reminder of the connections that you can make on the chain. ![image.png](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/holoz0r/23tSSNSeWRsgq26fvnVc6t37f5paRnbZ4n9q46AxpaSYBECoToUrRuVEqrAVR2J1PHa9e.png) Connections that can so easilly be interrupted by time, space, and people's commitments. Behind most posts, behind most votes, behind most accounts (let's not delve too deeply into the topic of AI generated content) - behind most words that are published to the hive blockchain, there are real people. Corporeal, fleshly, sacks of emotion and purpose - driven by either an urge to be seen, or an urge to try and extract value from their labours. Some accounts sit silent. Others sit concluded, with a published reason of departure, bitter vitriol or disappointment because the platform couldn't live up to their expectations. Or perhaps, they couldn't live up to the chain's expectations. But everyday, I keep coming back to the window. I know some of the faces, I'll never see again. I know that some of the faces that I cherish now, and will cherish into the future, will too, one day fall silent. I'll be sad then, as I am kind of sad thinking about that inevitable future departure. To me, to love something is to know that one day it will be lost. If it were not loved, the loss would mean nothing. Will we lose HIVE one day? Will we lose our favourite author, our favourite musician, our favourite artist? What really matters to me me is that the time spent on HIVE isn't wasted. I still remember things like @galenkp's story about napkins under food. I remember this because after reading his post about this, and us going to grab a snack at a cafe after a walk, we both knowingly looked into each other's eyes as we removed the napkin from below the snack, with shared disdain. I've spent the last nine years growing up. Growing old. My values have changed. The things I publish have mostly stayed the same. The words I write now feel like they are instilled with more meaning, because, perhaps after all the years I've spent letting my heart travel down my sleeve, I have become more honest, more vulnerable, more open. I think that comes with "becoming more serious", and achieving some serious financial goals that were accelerated rapidly by things like *Splinterlands*. I had a lot of games, a lot of cards, a lot of bullishness and enthusiasm, and I saw a pathway leading to significant reductions in real world *need*. It really has set me on a path to more financial freedom than someone my age reasonably deserves. I've been prudent, I've lived below my means. I'm sure someone like @aggroed would be happy to know that something like Splinterlands helped me to pay off my first mortgage. The journey on the way out wasn't filled with joy, but it will filled with some loss - for those that missed seeing my name as the person they had defeated, or the long, passionate discussions held in discord or on comment chains about the future direction of the game. Perhaps the single biggest direction change in my life was chatting to @mattclarke He is, afterall, the person you all must blame (or thank) for bringing steem to my attention back in the day. Without him, I wouldn't be *here.* I might've been somewhere else, but I wouldn't have found my voice. I've been very much a generalist when it comes to posting content on the platform. Those who've been here since the start (I still remember my first interactions with @acidyo, @curie, and countless others) - and they're all reasons that I'm still here. I won't stop posting my reviews of content, be they video games, books, movies, or the driver of a blue Volkswagen Golf, travelling west on... I have a _tiny audience to thank. There's probably not even *dozens* of you. While the chain might say I have over 3,000 followers, I know for a fact that many of them, in terms of their blockchain activity are dead, and there's no dancing necromancer by the campfire to bring those people back. I'm hopeful that my voice will continue to be heard, to be appreciated, but the biggest death any of us can suffer on this platform, or indeed any - as social creatures, is the lack of any meaningful interaction. So to those who regularly come along my content and say *something*, thank you. To those of you who have followed me in the past, and have ceased doing so - please give me another go. I'm sure that you will find content that you will enjoy, or at the very least, can scroll past and be reminded that I'm still alive. That you're still alive. There is nothing worse than publishing something online only to be met with silence in response. Votes may come in, but silence is the worst possible thing. That's why I reserve the bulk of my upvotes for comments, because I value and want to reward people who interact with me. Not everyone feels and thinks this way. Maybe I'm deranged. Yet still, after all these years, I'm hopeful. But many others have seen the writing on the wall, the nepotism, cronyism, users fellating each other with votes for content that to the outside observer - doesn't add value. If I don't add value to your life, or meaning, that's fine. But - know that without people interacting with each other on this platform, none of us would be here. We're social creatures. This is a social place. Act like it. In terms of the Internet, there's nowhere else (that I know of) that this rambling, long form, sentimental content has to go. I know of no other place where I can go. So please, stay here with me. I don't want to lose you too.