Choosing Silence Has Costs

Ah... engagement. My old friend. This time, the lack of it. It does feel a bit comical, especially after all the choices I've made. I've abandoned social media. Barely touching Instagram. Deleted TikTok. No distraction apps on my phone. On my computer browser, YouTube has been nerfed - gaming fans will understand. It's just my channel, subscriptions and a search bar. No homepage. No recommendations. I don't see "content" unless I actively look for it. Creatively, it works. Very well, I must say. I'm doing more of everything: music, videos, writing, web app. I feel much closer to my "me" of 15-20 years ago, and that feels right. Boredom is great. Boredom is productive. Honestly, if you're seeking this kind of clarity, you should try it. However... there's always a "however". Here's the part few people talk about and where the friction begins: acting like it's 2010 in a 2025 world is not a great match. Every morning, out of habit, I check my email, Substack, YouTube and web app. It takes about four minutes. Four minutes that somehow turn into a soft melancholy - not devastating, just that sad "ehh..." feeling. The numbers barely move, if they move at all. One or two extra views. No new subscribers, sometimes fewer. No clear signal that I'm progressing. Or that anything is spreading. It's just... quiet. Quiet is fine. I chose quiet. Still, what's the emotional toll of consistently putting work into the world and feeling like it disappears into the void? I genuinely wonder. The issue isn't fame. You already know me better than that - I hope. I won't become the last mouse, re-entering the maze once again after finally escaping it. I don't want fake conversations in my comments. I don't want to pretend I'm interested just because engagement is expected. I don't want to collaborate just to exchange audiences. What is even that? Has anyone really thought about how dishonest that feels? For real - think about it now. And yet, it's advised. I don't get it. And I didn't get it back then either. Sorry in advance if this sounds harsh, but we've all been brain-rotted by these massive algorithmic machines and their dopaminic candy: engagement. It's almost sickening. If I talk to someone, it's because I want to. If I collaborate with someone, it's because I resonate with them and their work. Not because an algorithm rewards it. I know where attention lives. I've knocked on that door a thousand times. I've consumed it. I've become a part of it. And every single time, it felt like doing something against my nature. Those audiences arrive fast and disappear just as fast. You're easily cancelled - or glorified - in the exact same instant. I want people who actually sit down. Listen. Read. Think. Those people, if they stay, usually don't leave. They stick around. They support. They follow. I've often imagined the kind of person who might resonate with my work. A man or a woman. Maybe young, maybe 60+. Someone who likes electronic music - or just music. And regardless of where they fall on that spectrum, I feel like they follow because they're seeking something meaningful. Something purposeful. And I think that's what I offer. Not trends. Not the latest flashy thing or sound. Obviously, I can't ignore reality. Numbers matter today. That's 2025 kicking my 2010 ass. Not because they define the value of my work, but because they're almost the only external signal that someone, somewhere, felt something. Even if it's "ugh, I hate this song" or "this guy's thoughts are crazy". I remember messages I've received over the years from people praising a specific track or project. That means more than a hundred views. I wish I had given even more weight to those moments when they happened. Maybe I didn't fully understand their value at the time. I'm proud of what I'm making, though. What's missing is the connection. And what's strange is that I've had moments where things just worked. About a year ago, I uploaded STELLAR (an EP) to YouTube. Three videos in a row. Black, minimal visuals. Wave-genre tracks. No social media promotion. I was on a clear hiatus back then. And somehow, those videos exploded compared to everything else on my channel recently - even compared to my latest album. I don't know why. Playlists. Timing. Luck. Algorithm. I was doing exactly what I liked, not compromising - and I was still rewarded. That felt good! Since then, I've done similar things. But nothing significant happened. So... what changed? Probably just the algorithm doing its thing. That can really mess with your head. It did with mine - and still does. When consistency doesn't produce consistent outcomes. That's when the uncomfortable questions start. Is the project too conceptual now? Did I disappear long enough that the few people who cared simply moved on? Or is it just that small indie accounts aren't really surfaced anymore unless you actively feed the machine? I don't have clear answers. Sorry about that. I don't have comforting narratives either. It just sucks. What I can say for sure: the work is happening. The process is healthy. I'm not creatively lost. What's broken is the feedback loop... Somehow I routed the output signal straight into the input channel. A classic producer mistake. Maybe that's the cost of doing things this way. Maybe if you choose quiet, you also choose silence. Or at least longer stretches of it. I've been thinking about adjusting my morning pattern. Not checking stats every day - maybe making it a weekly thing? Not because it would make me more productive, but because it would reduce that small, sharp drop in mood that comes from seeing nothing move... or even move backwards. This entry really wasn't about answers. It just felt important to talk about this. Creating in a way that feels right, while still hoping the work reaches somewhere beyond your home studio - integrity and connection, in a system that often forces you to choose. Honestly... what was I expecting? Thank you for reading "Inside The Mind Of An Artist". Until next time, Vítor