I started accessing the internet (at least a version) when my primary school had the bright idea (and funding) of buying a set of 20 iPads for the school to use when they attended Information Communication Technology classes.
Being ten-year-olds, when we weren’t being taught how to browse the internet or research facts online for a book report... (Don’t you dare you use Wikipedia!) We played games. Endless ones.
And while that version of the internet, at least the ‘approved-by-the-Apple-app-store’ and ‘educationally appropriate’ one, was fun... It got boring. Even in the days before TikTok and people sounding the alarms about shrinking attention spans, I felt it, regardless of my ignorance.
Things got more interesting when I reached the final grade of primary school (and my final year of traditional schooling) when we got laptops. Remember those? Clunky little netbooks that ran for hours on battery power? Yes, those were the days. When we considered Windows 8 to be state-of-the-art.
We learned the wonders of PowerPoint and Word. (I seemed the only one who enjoyed Excel.) Our training was unorthodox: a presentation through a music video for Footloose by Kenny Loggins, and formatting a document through an exquisite corpse writing exercise. My former ICT teacher would approve of the poetic web.
Before being a self-directed learner, computers and the internet were a mere blip in my life. The only time I spent playing with these tools was during ICT class, which was once every two weeks. Yes, I also practiced Spanish on Duolingo on the family’s ancient Samsung tablet, made fake news programs and Lego stop-motion videos, but that was it. I still listened to music from CDs, on a small stereo my parents bought me. I spent most of my time reading paperbacks. Books were my greatest love, and remain so today.
Once I escaped the rigors and biases of the flawed system, the world opened up to me. And it was all thanks to Scratch.
For those unfamiliar, Scratch a visual programming language, and a social learning site for kids, both developed and run by the MIT Media Lab and the Scratch Foundation. I spent hours on that site as a preteen, immersing myself in everyone else’s creativity.
I didn’t just consume. I also created. I made many things: art, gifts for folks, a music video, games... Everything I could think of.
Learning a programming language is how I learned to love writing. Besides the internet and reading, is my favorite thing in the world.
In those glorious times of being a preteen, unencumbered with self-doubt, the world’s judgment, and a willingness to try everything, I thrived. Though I still read, the internet became my one love. Until I discovered another way of using the internet. One that left it lifeless. Being a mere consumer.
YouTube, once a learning haven, became an endless time-sucking black hole. I ditched email in favor of the latest messaging apps, and even joined Instagram. The sites I visited changed from ones where I’d learn and interact, from ones where I would scroll and numb.
And it still mystified me why that spark had gone out. I resented the technology which had only been my greatest joy. And yet, that’s the strange thing. I viewed the internet as a powerful, nebulous presence shaping my thoughts, actions, and feelings. How we see the world becomes the world itself.
And so it remained.
From my late teens to my first year of being in my twenties, this attitude remained. And yes, I did many wonderful things involving the devices I depended on: I wrote my first two novels and submitted my work to short story competitions. Wrote, edited, indie-published, marketed, re-edited, and republished my space opera adventure trilogy. Made art and exchanged letters with folks from around the world. And still... the malaise hung over me. Nothing could shake it.
Until 2024. The year when everything changed.
The initial seed of inspiration came in early 2023, when I listened to a podcast interview with a man who’s changed my life for the better. I’m a longtime listener of the Tim Ferriss Show, hosted by the eponymous host. In 2023, he interviewed Derek Sivers, founder of music distribution service CD Baby.
While I was proficient at countless applications and surfacing the information I needed, I’d never gone a layer deeper. Though I knew a little about HTML and CSS, it was only out of necessity for adjusting WordPress themes. I’d convinced myself I could never be technical, so I never tried.
I’d fantasied about having a website, but that’s the thing about dreams. As long as you don’t attempt them, they remain perfect. You can’t fail at something you’ve never begun.
The simplicity he suggested approaching the learning process blew me away. I didn’t know all one needed for a website was a hosting provider, a domain, some HTML files, and a CSS stylesheet.
I hesitated. I hedged. I dabbled, grew frustrated, and started from scratch. And yes, it was fun, but I learned nothing. Staying safe yet unaccomplished inside my comfort zone. It only took me twelve months to do something about it and another two to put it on the internet.
My website has been live since the 2nd of June, 2024, and I intend to maintain it for as long as I live.
What changed? The people. I’ve always been a solitary type. How can you tell?
The personal, the small, the poetic, the quiet... Whatever you wish to call this corner, I discovered a different way of being. Creating instead of mindless consumption. Emailing strangers and having thoughtful discussions instead of fleeting messages which never receive a reply. Exploring through hyperlinks instead of scrolling. It was a revolution.
In this way, one serendipitous discovery leads to another. Discovering Links I Would G-Chat You If We Were Friends lead to Naive Weekly, which lead to Diagram.Website, the IndieWeb Wiki, and the 32-Bit Cafe, and what’ll be a brilliant first issue of the Good Internet magazine.
One evening, while exploring Maggie Appleton’s digital garden, I found her essay about the history of digital gardens. It wasn’t just her writing which fascinated me: it was how the page worked. Each concept linked to another, creating a web of connected thoughts. Like Wikipedia.
This wasn’t the infinite scroll I’d grown accustomed to. It felt alive.
Each link opened a door to a new room in an endless house. Something surprising and delightful. That night, I stayed up far too late, following trails of thought from one personal website to another. It was the opposite of the mindless consumption: this was active exploration.
Compound interest applies to the lovely corners of the web too!
Over the brief eight months I’ve had my site, I’ve written over thirty thousand words, joined webrings, learned a little HTML, CSS, XML, and Apache, taught myself how to use FileZilla, submitted posts to the IndieWeb Carnival, attended Homebrew Website Club, and discovered countless wonderful folks from all walks of life. I may not be an expert programmer, but I’ve learned more than I dreamed possible.
My first technical challenge came when I tried to add an RSS feed to my site. I’ve used RSS readers for a few years, and wanted folks to have the chance to subscribe to my site if they so wished. When I discovered I had to learn XML, I froze.
I spent three evenings struggling with the syntax, creating feeds that refused to validate. So many error messages! I almost gave up. (Easy to do when you have no idea what you’re doing!)
Then I remembered Derek Sivers’ approach: start with the simplest version.
I started again, only with the title and URL of my latest post. When that worked, I added the publication date. Then the author details. Piece by piece.
When I got that green ‘valid RSS feed’ message... What a thrill!
Everything I learn deepens my appreciation for the world.
And while I’d say I hope there’s more to come, it’s more accurate to say I know there will be. Because how I (and you) experience the web is in my control.
It’s only taken me twelve years to find out.
I have so many ideas for what I want my site to be, it’ll take years to fulfill them all! (At the time of writing, adding a custom search function, a dark mode, and a contact form are next on the list.) And that’s what I love about it. An infinite canvas, yet constrained enough so it isn’t overwhelming.
While I titled this piece ‘how I fell in love with the internet (again),’ I should’ve called it 'how I fluctuated between love and hate toward the internet over my short lifetime (so far).'
That’s the cursed beauty of growing up. Falling in and out of love to find yourself.
Zachary Kai is a queer writer and generalist who crafts science fiction about resilient souls among stars in between making zines and collecting skills. Australian-born, he writes with American spelling and British punctuation: a linguistic wanderer. The internet is his livelihood and lifeline, and he documents his existence at zacharykai.net.
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