I have been publishing online since 2019.
My very first article was highly technical and long: an introduction to the Android Open Source Project.
When I read that article years later, I could see how much I had improved as a writer. The Vlad of 2026 is more mature. More precise. Less eager to prove everything at once. More capable of holding the boundary between sharing and exposure.
But that maturity was not free.
It took years.
Stone Age: Finding a Voice
Originally, my blog existed because I wanted to share my knowledge with the world.
I remember the feeling as if it were today: one day I would die, and it would be a pity if everything I knew died with me.
What started as a technical blog slowly turned into something closer to a public diary.
I was oversharing.
And yet, this phase was necessary.
People in Slovakia often write a lot publicly, but anonymously. Otherwise, they tend to be quite reserved. When I was searching for my own voice, I had almost nobody around me to compare myself to. I simply knew that I wanted to be more open.
In hindsight, I was too open.
I shared even some of the most painful moments of my life in the hope that someone else might find a lesson there. I wrote about dating. I wrote about breakup. I wrote about confusion, failure, and the parts of life most people prefer to leave hidden.
Would I share those things today?
No way.
But I have no regrets.
It was necessary calibration.
Some people thought I was crazy for posting those articles. At the same time, they were sending them in work chats. In a way, I was the odd man out, and it worked.
All those articles still live in my archive. They remain among the most valuable things I created.
Originally, I wrote perhaps seventy articles. Maybe ten of them were technical. Out of those ten, perhaps four gained some kind of virality. People still read some of them in 2026, years later.
That was the first act of my writer’s journey.
Intermezzo: Writing Without an Audience
One day, I decided to take all my content down.
I had real visitors on my website, and yet I felt it was the right decision. My website had everything and nothing at the same time. People could not put my blog in a box, so almost nobody subscribed. Maybe my family and a few friends. That was it.
What I realized, though, was that writing was truly helping me.
It functioned as a kind of light therapy.
Only later did I discover journaling as a named technique. I had discovered it on my own first.
So I continued writing, but privately. This time in proper notebooks, using old-school pen and paper.
After four or five full notebooks, I realized they were taking quite a lot of shelf space. I bought a reMarkable and thought I would continue there.
It never really worked for me.
But the writing never stopped.
It was still refining me.
Bronze Age: Finding Clarity
About a year ago, from March to September 2025, I quit my job and stayed unemployed for a while.
As someone working for others, I never had enough time to figure out what I actually wanted to do, what kind of life I wanted, or what kind of entrepreneur I wanted to become.
Suddenly, I had all the time in the world to focus only on that.
Those were some of the best months of my life.
I wish I could have continued like that forever, but my financial reserves were emptying fast.
By the time I started working for others again, I had gained clarity.
That time was used exactly as I had planned.
Before that period, I had one failing business: a podcast studio.
After that period, I came back with the concept of an experimental organizational operating system, an alternative to the corporate system used today.
I am absolutely sure this is my best work so far.
Without dedicating entire days to it, I would not have created it.
Once again, I reached a point where I had something valuable to share, but no real platform capable of carrying it.
It was time to restart the transmission, this time as a more mature auteur who knew how to hold the delicate boundary between privacy and sharing.
It was probably around October or November 2025 when I relaunched my website and, for the first time ever, properly optimized my LinkedIn.
I know social media quite well. I know some of what works and what does not.
But most people have a narrow product to sell.
I had a whole world to share.
So I started an experiment.
I needed to give people something palpable:
clarity over noise
On the surface, my content might have looked chaotic, perhaps not entirely unlike the Stone Age. But this time there was a shared motive underneath.
I wanted to show my thinking.
How my mind works across domains.
I bump into a situation. I extract patterns. I build rules or frameworks. I integrate. I connect it to something else.
My content did exactly that.
At the same time, I made sure not to overshare too much of my private life.
You might know that I am from Slovakia, that I dance tango, that I speak in Toastmasters, and maybe that my mind is unusual.
That was it.
Selective reveal under my control.
At the end of July, I looked at the long-term data, and it was painful.
No matter how valuable I believed some of the insights were, social media optimized for dopamine posts mostly ignored them.
The irony was sharp.
What I see as noise is often treated by people and algorithms as signal.
My dense signal was often treated as noise.
If I had written more polarizing posts, used shorter punchier lines, and turned my own stylized photos into content assets, I would likely have done better.
But I refused to do that.
I still do.
Iron Age: Finding Monetization
The realization was painful.
The past seven years refined my thinking beyond recognition. They transformed me internally as a person too. The clarity I have now comes from within.
But this had a cost.
After seven years, I still do not have a real following.
I do not want to be an influencer.
But I cannot materialize an ambitious vision if I keep writing for crickets.
I have watched others who came after me. Their product was narrower. They followed proven frameworks, stayed legible, repeated one public claim, and today they are selling real products to real people.
Meanwhile, I barely had a product to sell.
What I built is perhaps an order of magnitude more complex.
I built a world.
It lives inside me.
But how do you invite people into a world?
That is my current stage: the Iron Age.
Since people did not read my content elsewhere in any meaningful volume, I scrubbed my social media. My articles are still free, but now they are exclusive to my website.
I reclaimed my sovereignty from borrowed platforms, on my own turf.
Actually, I had a very good feeling about this.
By the way, this article is the first one written in this new era. It is much less optimized for social media, and hopefully more me.
Social media is silent for a while.
I needed time to figure out what comes next. And I knew one thing clearly: I cannot bear seven more years of writing for crickets.
I want to build.
This time, I decided to use social media as intended.
No more experiments with unusual long-form content on borrowed platforms.
I now have my first concrete product: an AI-built app audit.
LinkedIn and YouTube may show me as a narrow expert who does one thing and one thing only.
Most people will never go beyond that veil.
If they buy my services, that is fine.
Some of them, the curious ones, may follow the breadcrumbs to my website. And here they will discover that I have far more depth.
Those are the people I am looking for anyway.
I simply will not serve my best work to the masses anymore.
What Comes Next?
In the upcoming weeks, I will heavily focus on the new product.
I need to start selling fast.
Who would have known my return to YouTube would be so sudden?
But here we are.
On my website, I will remain more open and multidimensional. If my writing brings more curiosity in you, I am truly happy.
At the end of the day, I am still sharing with the world what proved valuable to me.
I guess my original motivation to write did not change that much.
