Of No Value
Today marks one full month since I’ve been unemployed. To commemorate the milestone, a string of emails from Google arrived, letting me know that nearly every site I’ve registered—Tiinii, Kikk, WanPark, and Japan-Cafe—has been almost completely de-indexed. All four went from over 90% indexed to nearly invisible in the span of a week, rendering hundreds of hours of effort—and not a small amount of money—seemingly worthless.
Yes, Google isn’t the only search engine. But saying that feels like reminding someone the sun isn’t the only star in the sky.
Bing was actually the first to report the sites as indexed, but impressions from that platform over the past two months could be counted on one hand. Almost nobody uses Yahoo!, DuckDuckGo, or Ecosia. These projects of mine, for all intents and purposes, are dead in the water—unless I pour thousands more into ads across social platforms. But when each site had a best-case revenue potential in the hundreds of dollars, investing more would be like paying a ransom for a dream that may never return.
Last week I wrote about working on other travel-related things, and I am still moving forward on them. But I can’t help wondering: will these projects also amount to nothing?
The past few weeks have been a rollercoaster of elation and despair. Ayumi knows something’s up—she does her best to help in the way only a loyal dog can—but I find myself wishing for a bit more stability. Every direction I turn, money is being funnelled to large corporations in exchange for very little in return. The cash spent on Google Maps and ChatGPT APIs might have covered a car payment and a couple tanks of fuel instead.
As I continue working on the next set of sites, I can’t help but wonder if the lack of traction is fate’s way of telling me I’m heading down the wrong road. Even 𝕏, once a place to share and discover, has become increasingly opaque. Recent changes to the algorithm have reduced my visibility to a few dozen people—even in channels with thousands of subscribers. When I discussed the matter with Grok, the AI trained on 𝕏 data, its summary was blunt: my posts lack engagement. People don’t want quiet photos of overlooked places in Japan or a white-furred dog. They want memes, outrage, and raw emotion—none of which hold any appeal for me.
But if these aren't the right things to work on, then what is? What value can I possibly offer a world that thrives on noise, reaction, and unfinished thought?
For five years, I’ve been chasing this question. Each time I thought I had an answer, I was wrong. Maybe the world is right. Maybe the things I enjoy—the things I create—are of no value.