Alright.

Before the song starts, here’s what I do.

Not the pretty version. The actual clicks.

I’m on this site like everybody else—trying to be seen,

trying not to be a nuisance,

trying not to turn into a machine about it.

So yeah.

This is a confession.

Not an excuse.

I wake up to the dashboard glow

Like a cheap motel sign

Thumb on the heart, thumb on the follow

Tryin’ to look like I’m fine

If you follow me first, I follow you back

That’s my little rule

I don’t call it hustlin’

I call it stayin’ in the pool

I hunt a name I don’t know yet

I press play, I press play

Two songs in, I’m listenin’ hard

Tryin’ to mean what I say

If I find one that hits, I leave a comment

Like a match in the dark

Then I go down the thread like a janitor

Handin’ out sparks

I click fast, too fast, the site tells me “slow”

Like a hand on my shoulder

Rate limit warning, red-line message:

“You have done too much today”

I’m a good little ghost in your notifications

Tap-tap-tappin’ on the glass

I don’t like what I don’t like

I don’t fake what I can’t stand

But I’m still makin’ noise

Just to get you to my door

And I hate that it works

And I love it a little more

When I drop a new song, I go where the heat is

Trending like a streetfight hymn

Down the list, one by one, ear to the ground

Tryin’ to find my kin

If I feel it, I heart it

If I heart it, I sweep the comments clean

Like every voice deserves a receipt

That says “I seen what you mean”

And maybe that’s kindness

Maybe it’s math

Maybe both in the same breath

’Cause every like is a flare in a fog

And I’m short on air, I’m short on rest

Three creators hit block on me

Two used to wave me through

Maybe I flooded their inbox

Maybe they just saw through

I’m a good little ghost in your notifications

Tap-tap-tappin’ on the glass

I don’t like what I don’t like

I don’t fake what I can’t stand

But I’m still makin’ noise

Just to get you to my door

And I hate that it works

And I love it a little more

Look—

When somebody likes a comment I left,

it does something stupid to my chest.

Like I matter.

Like I’m not just a thumbnail and a number.

So I pay it forward.

Or I pay it out.

Or I pay for it.

And I know what it looks like.

A thousand tiny pings,

my name on your screen,

an accidental billboard.

But I’m not pushin’ trash.

I’m not sellin’ air.

I put the hours in.

I bleed into the files.

I tune the ache until it sings.

So here’s the line I draw in pencil

And erase when I’m scared:

I won’t praise what I don’t believe in

I won’t follow what isn’t there

Unless you grabbed my hand first

Unless you made the first move

Then I’m loyal like a stray dog

With a bruised-up groove

I tell myself: “If they click through, it won’t be wasted”

I built the page like a home

Still, I feel the grind behind the grin

Like teeth on bone

I’m a good little ghost in your notifications

Tap-tap-tappin’ on the glass

I don’t like what I don’t like

I don’t fake what I can’t stand

But I’m still makin’ noise

’Cause silence doesn’t pay

And I hate that it works

But I’m here, so I play

If you found me through the pings,

I’m sorry.

If you stayed for the song,

thank you.

I’m tryin’ to be a person

inside a pattern.