I want to make it perfectly clear that I tried.
It’s been almost 30 years now. I got on the Internet sometime in 1994 or 1995, and I made my first webpage about a week and a half later. This entire time, I’ve been trying to make the perfect website.
I don’t know if it’s not possible. I don’t know if it’s possible. But I can tell you, it’s been nearly 30 years, and I’m tired. I am tired. And it is time to stop, now.
I’ve mentioned before that my primary inspiration was Soylent Communications. I wanted to have a suite of websites. Well, kids, the problem with having a lot of websites is that they’re almost impossible to maintain. My current website, the ‘main’ one, has not been updated in something like a year or two. And you know why?
Because I’ve been working on a re-design.
It’s gone okay. but I want to specify why exactly it’s not out yet, and why, if I didn’t just say that’s enough, it would never be out.
Websites are never finished.
It’s long been a running ‘joke’, a major source of ‘comedy’ in the business world, that, if you try to make your own fucking website— code it by ‘hand’— you will absolutely, positively never be finished. And it’s kind of true: in the 20-some years that I’ve had my main website, very little has ever been put on it.
For me, I’m on the Autism spectrum. I’m a perfectionist. I want everything to be done, and finished, and perfect. And, when I published my first book— a scanty 50-some pages, at best, I felt kind of embarrassed. Was I really providing value to my readers? You know, I don’t know.
But the book had to be that long. It also cannot be updated. I’ve thought about it; I haven’t tried. But it’s a work of art. Thematically, it’s supposed to be like that. You can’t change it. It is what it is, for better, or for worse. And I’ve learned to accept that.
Because Perfect is so often the enemy of Good.
And Perfect has been my enemy my entire goddamned life.
A room that’s never clean.
My bedroom has been in disarray since 2000 or even longer. It’s not dirty; it’s just, I have too many clothes, and they’re all in boxes. They don’t fit anywhere.
I bought a rug from Ukraine. A custom Sailor Moon rug. It’s beautiful. Take a look:
It is, bar none, the most-beautiful item I have ever purchased.
My floor was filled with boxes. I had to clean. I said to myself— by the time this rug gets here, I’ll have to have my room out of disarray. I will clean so that I can place this rug.
I cleaned a perfect square around it, and placed the rug in the middle.
There are still boxes upon boxes of clean clothes, stacked, in my bedroom.
I can’t do perfect.
I have ADHD. Besides the things that that entails, I’m scatterbrained. I’m a Cloud Cuckoolander. I don’t do order very well.
I can’t run a website that isn’t somewhat run for me. When it comes to a static website— for the longest, I tried to follow Google’s guidelines, and have multiple pages. I can’t update multiple pages. I don’t know how to make ‘sections’. The way I divvy things up, in my brain and in my heart, they differ wildly. I don’t like making categories, nor putting things into boxes.
So I struggled with trying to reconcile my vision with Google’s. And it just never worked. I’ve made web designs that the world just was not going to understand how to use. Vertical spires; things that were responsive, but nobody would understand how to use them.
So I stopped. I put those designs away, and I tried.
The end result.
I’m going to soon release a ‘one-page’ website. It’ll be icze4r dot org. It will, for better or worse, have an index that is its own site directory / site map. It will not have navigation beyond taking you back to the site map.
I can’t do this anymore. I cannot try to reconcile my vision, my dreams, with what is expected of me. I am nearly 40 years old and I have tried so hard to be what other people wanted me to be, to the point where I’ve never really investigated who or what I actually am.
Now is the time. Because time is short, and I should really be logging off.
That is all.