Yesterday, 232 people spent their most precious asset—time—reading my words. In the cold, calculated world of digital platforms, that moment of human connection was valued at about $0.06.

Let’s call it what it is: an insult. Not only to me, but to you, the reader. Because the system is quietly telling us that hundreds of minds paying attention to reality is worth less than a sip of cheap coffee.

And here’s the part most people don’t see: I’m writing this naked.

Naked of support. Naked of ‘authority’. Naked of a big website, a marketing team, a publisher, or a crowd of followers pushing my posts. No safety net. No backstage crew.

Just what I read in economic magazines, my own thoughts, and my experience.

That’s it.

In 2026, the internet loves noise. It rewards the show, the rage, the empty performance. But when someone sits down and writes honestly—without sponsors, without propaganda, without trying to seduce the algorithm—the payment is almost symbolic.

They call this world ‘free’. But it’s not really free. It’s a digital feudal system: we produce, platforms distribute, and most of the value collects at the top. The creator gets crumbs and is expected to smile.

If you’re here because you were promised ‘easy money online’, this is your reality check: 232 readers can still equal six cents.

So why do I keep doing it?

Because I’m not here to become a bestseller. I’m here to be heard. I’m here to build a small, honest ‘digital office’—a place where my books can be born, where my work can live, and where I can publish without asking permission from gatekeepers.

And yes, the money matters—because it pays for hosting, ISBNs, and the boring infrastructure that makes independence possible. But the real goal is bigger: a community of readers who value truth over hype.

If the system pays me $0.06 today, fine. The number doesn’t define the worth of the work. It only reveals what the system values.

I choose to value something else: clarity, dignity, and freedom.

I write naked. And I write anyway.

If you like what you’re reading, leave me a tip.

With it, you help my digital office keep running—and you help an independent voice stay independent.

— Joan