I Don’t Want Followers. I Want Returners.
Why I stopped chasing visibility and started paying attention to who comes back
Kamila Murkowska
Independent writer exploring emotion, perception and contemporary life. Chooses depth over noise and continuity over trends. Works across self-hosted and decentralized spaces. Drawn to nuance, memory and quiet moments.
Slovak
Nevraciam sa. Len si overujem, čo zo mňa ešte nezmizlo.
Veľká noc ako tichý kontakt s niečím, čo už nie je aktuálne, ale stále má váhu.
I Stopped Making Sense the Moment I Stopped Being Consistent.
What looked like distance was just the loss of a version of me you could follow.
Spanish
No soy de aquí… pero algo en mí sí
A veces no hace falta que te adopten en voz alta. Lo sientes igual.
Polish
Internet stworzył ludzi, którzy mówią wszystko ale nie rozumieją nic
Problem nie polega na tym, że wiemy za mało. Problem polega na tym, że przestaliśmy rozumieć, kiedy naprawdę coś rozumiemy.
Slovak
Nikdy sme neboli tak blízko pravde a zároveň tak ďaleko
Ako internet rozdelil spoločnosť na tých, ktorí hľadajú pravdu, a tých, ktorí hľadajú potvrdenie
Most people leave before their real voice shows up
Because silence feels like failure when you’re not used to it
Owning your infrastructure changes how you think
And why most people avoid finding out what that actually means
Time
No Matter What You Choose, You’ll Be Late to Something
The invisible timeline women are measured against — and why it was never designed to be winnable.
Slovak
Možno som len decentralizovala svoj život
Odísť z krajiny nie je vždy dramatické rozhodnutie. Niekedy je to len logická reakcia na realitu, ktorá sa mení rýchlejšie, než jej dokážeš veriť.
Continuity
A Human Life Rendered as a Technical Variable
Deletion is rarely dramatic. It is administrative. A life can be reduced to broken links and silent interfaces overnight. What remains is not absence, but a strange suspended existence — still thinking, still remembering, yet no longer fully allowed to be seen.
News
I am done letting platforms decide whether I exist
There is a particular kind of silence that only happens online. Not the silence of absence. The silence of removal. A post that vanishes. A profile that becomes unreachable. A voice that is suddenly “under review” — as if expression itself were a suspicious activity. I have lived inside that silence