Nostr notes by el

Thank you, really! More is coming.

2026-10-02T00:54:19Z

In reply to nevent1q…9nth
_________________________

Thank you, really! More is coming.

Some of the most interesting conversations I’ve had about ...

2026-10-02T00:32:59Z

In reply to nevent1q…glgs
_________________________

Some of the most interesting conversations I’ve had about quantum mechanics were with people who lean toward MWI. I’m a fan of MWI.

I’m stunned that people are actually reading it, let alone ...

2026-10-02T00:24:34Z

In reply to nevent1q…3cu5
_________________________

I’m stunned that people are actually reading it, let alone liking it enough to recommend it to other people. This is incredibly kind of you. Thank you!!

🫂

2026-10-01T03:58:15Z

In reply to naddr1qq…wmgp
_________________________

🫂

What’s your interpretation of quantum mechanics?

2026-10-01T03:41:40Z

In reply to nevent1q…9x98
_________________________

What’s your interpretation of quantum mechanics?

I finally had a chance to properly read this, and not only did I ...

2026-10-01T02:43:20Z

In reply to naddr1qq…254u
_________________________

I finally had a chance to properly read this, and not only did I really enjoy it, but you’ve inspired me to write my own “why I am here and what I’m hoping to get out of Nostr” kind of thing. I think it’s such a good way of putting yourself out there. Thank you!

Thank you so much for your feedback! Your comment made me so ...

2026-09-30T01:34:36Z

In reply to nevent1q…m5vj
_________________________

Thank you so much for your feedback! Your comment made me so happy!! I have no doubt and no illusions that my writing is raw and imperfect but when someone takes the time to read the whole chapter and wants to know more, that makes me feel so good! Thank you! I’ll be posting a chapter a week.

Dear #Nostr ! You’ve spent the last week showing one curious ...

2026-09-29T21:45:30Z

Dear #Nostr ! You’ve spent the last week showing one curious #normie your strange little world; here’s a doorway into mine. If you have 10–15 minutes to spend inside someone else’s life, I hope mine is an interesting place to visit. Let me know if you’d like more.

#NostrReads #GrowNostr

P.S. Sorry for the spam. Your resident normie is learning.

quoting
naddr1qq…7jg6

Chapter 1

The ferry groaned as it docked, as if it couldn’t believe this island even existed. The biting wind clawed at my jacket and tangled itself in my hair, tearing strands loose across my face. Overhead, the gulls circled, watchful and territorial, their cries thin and distant.

The island sprawled ahead, a patchwork of rocky cliffs and windblown trees, shrouded in the gray haze of late February. This wasn’t the bright, postcard-perfect summer haven I’d seen in magazines. It was raw, cold, and empty. Perfect for freezing my existential crisis into submission.

The driver of the island shuttle barely looked at me as he loaded my single bag into the back. Clearly, he’d reached his off-season tourist quota well before my arrival.

We started driving, and it felt like we were heading toward the edge of the world. Massive cliffs rose along the coast, casting long shadows on the narrow, winding road bordered by wild brush and scattered boulders. Below, waves crashed against the rocks, sending bursts of white foam into the air.

For the first time in years, I remembered how to breathe. Not the shallow breaths I rationed in the city, surrounded by people who measured my worth by how well I counterfeited normalcy. In the city, breathing had rules. It had posture. It had to be palatable, soundbite-sized, woven between meetings, duties, deadlines and lawyers, bankers, doctors who made eye contact with their computers instead of me. This breathing filled every corner of my lungs with sharp, salted air until it hurt just enough to remind me I was alive. Each inhale loosened the script I’d spent too long reciting: resilient, capable, resilient, capable. That holy loop.

The shuttle moved without urgency, as if it too felt no need to rush.

I reached into my parka pocket and curled my fingers around the phone, which was showing zero reception. Out of habit, I opened the messaging app and glanced at Fyo’s last text, the one I’d gotten earlier as I boarded the ferry. “Don’t worry about me, Mom. Be safe, okay? Hope the island isn’t too creepy. Love you.”

I read it twice, then tucked the phone away, my smile slowly fading.

When the shuttle stopped, I stepped out onto a gravel driveway, my boots crunching against the loose stones.

The house stood before me, a weathered, gray structure perched precariously close to the cliff's edge, like it had been holding its breath for years, waiting for the ocean to claim it. The cedar shingles were streaked with dark stains from rain and ocean spray, and the windows glared like empty eyes, reflecting the overcast sky. If melancholy had a postal code, this house would be its longest-standing resident.

I turned to the driver, clinging to a small, irrational hope that this wasn’t the right address. I opened my mouth to crack a joke, but he just gave me a nod, his face blank. “Keys are in the mailbox. Be careful out here. The wind's worse than it looks.” With that, he climbed back into the shuttle and drove off, leaving me alone with the sound of the waves and the creaking groan of the house as the wind pushed against it in a way that was just dramatic enough to make me question my life choices.

I stood there a moment longer, still scanning for any sign that this wasn’t my rental. Then I saw them. A few cardboard boxes with the food delivery service logo sat stacked on the porch, half-hidden behind the railing. One was torn open, revealing medium-sized pumpkins. Since February wasn’t exactly peak gourd season, they were unmistakably mine. Any lingering doubt I had evaporated with the ocean mist. This was the house.

I pulled the keys from the mailbox and paused at the door. The knob was worn smooth, likely from years of hands. It felt heavier than it should have, like turning it meant agreeing to something I hadn’t quite decided on. But then, commitment and I had been distant acquaintances for years, rarely on speaking terms.

And yet, when I stepped inside, a strange familiarity settled over me as though the house had been waiting, and I was just finally showing up.

The house smelled of salt and old wood, a faint mustiness clinging to the air. The hardwood floors were scuffed but solid, and the walls were painted a pale white. A steep staircase rose to the second floor, its banister smooth and dark, and the small living room to my right was anchored by a stone fireplace. To my left, the dining room flowed into the small kitchen. There were no photos on the walls, no art, no warmth, no signs of anyone else’s life left behind, just emptiness.

The wind rattled the window panes, a low, hollow sound, almost like a whisper. I shivered, pulling my jacket tighter as I wandered into the kitchen. It was small and practical, with white cabinets and an ancient gas stove that looked like it had seen better days. I ran my hand along the countertop, smooth and cold under my fingers.

At the far end of the countertop stood what appeared to be a brand-new coffee maker. It looked oddly out of place in the otherwise bare kitchen. It was the same kind of machine I had back in the city: European, with a single button, and beautifully stubborn in its refusal to complicate coffee. I loved mine. This one looked freshly unpacked, the cord still looped with a twist tie, the instruction manual lying untouched beside it.

I opened the cabinets to find most of them nearly empty, holding only a handful of mismatched plates and lonely mugs. One cabinet, however, had been stocked with bottled water and an alarming but practical army of canned soup, all with expiration dates comfortably far in the future.

The tour of the rest of the house didn’t take long. It was a modest three-bedroom with creaky floors and large, drafty windows. Upstairs, the same emptiness carried from room to room, though someone seemed to have made an effort to prepare the largest bedroom for my arrival. The bed had been made with plain new sheets, their folds too sharp to pretend they had been there long. A heavy gray wool blanket lay at the foot of the bed beside a single neatly folded towel, while a compact electric space heater stood nearby, its cord still tightly wound.

I settled on the smallest bedroom, which felt cozier, happened to have the best view, and would, I figured, be the easiest to keep warm. I unpacked my bag and remade the bed with the new sheets, pillows, and the blanket from the larger room.

Then I found myself drawn back to the window. Beyond the glass, the ocean stretched out beneath the heavy sky, and I stood there listening to the waves break against the rocks below. There was nowhere else I had to be, and for once, that felt like a relief.

I had come here to get away from the unbearable stillness of my city apartment. I needed four walls that didn't know me or my thoughts, a different sky, a reset. With Fyo overseas for a semester at a boarding school in Europe, the quiet at home had become unsettling. This was the first time Fyo and I had been apart for more than a few days, and the emptiness left in his wake was sharper than I’d anticipated.

Missing Fyo was only part of what had brought me here, though. I needed to figure out what to do with my business, a venture that had grown too fast and beyond anything I’d imagined. It was a glittering success story born out of sheer desperation and an unshakable allergy to polyester.

It all started three years ago, on the first of January, when I woke up in an entirely new body. Not metaphorically. I was standing in front of the mirror, slowly unwrapping medical dressings, trying to recognize myself and failing in a very practical way. My body had changed since the last time I saw myself naked, and I remember thinking, with a kind of detached clarity, that this was going to require adjustment, in ways I was not prepared to itemize.

In front of that mirror, I found myself wondering whether I had once made some frivolous New Year’s wish about waking up more amply endowed than before and then, with admirable discipline, forgotten all about it. It seemed possible. Not likely, but possible. Memory is selective, especially where vanity is concerned. Although, judging by the situation, it appeared the request had eventually been processed, approved, and delivered with a decade-long delay.

Either way, whether one calls it a belated New Year’s miracle or simply the work of an excellent surgeon depends on temperament. What required immediate attention over the next few days was simple and practical: almost nothing I owned fit me anymore. I couldn’t spare a dime for new clothes, but I still had to brave the icy winters of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

I could either freeze to death or figure out how to layer up without turning into a walking rash. So I went to the local thrift stores, where I discovered a treasure trove of sad, discarded cashmere sweaters. They were stained, moth-eaten, and unloved. But not by me. I saw the potential.

Necessity doesn’t just mother invention. It decks her out in patchwork cashmere and sends her down the runway. I started hacking the sweaters up, deconstructing them, reshaping and reassembling the pieces into entirely new creations that, to put it kindly, would make anyone with a basic understanding of fashion weep. Think neon patchwork scarves, Frankenstein-style ponchos, and a sweater with sleeves that could double as neck pillows.

Patchwork wasn’t just aesthetic; it was autobiographical. Not long ago, my surgeons’ hands had mapped my body in sections, deciding where to cut and where to join, and I’d been rendered into components, returned to myself with seams, taught that coherence and beauty could be manufactured. Certainly, my pieces were far from flawless. Deliberately imperfect, each stitch carried the thrill of risk, the pride of doing it my way.

I didn’t care what anyone thought. But somehow, in a twist of cosmic irony, my hideous chic aesthetic struck a chord. Apparently, the world was ready for cashmere sweaters that looked like the fever dream of someone with a loose grip on reality. And people? Oh, they wanted them. They needed them.

Success felt weird.

My first sale was to a yoga influencer who called my lopsided cardigan "an inspired meditation on imperfection." (I called it "my knitting machine jammed.") She saw profound art where I saw pure survival, a metaphor for modern existence if there ever was one.

Before I knew it, orders flooded in, and I had to start outsourcing to actual professionals who didn’t think "straight seams" were just a suggestion. My little cashmere Frankenstein factory had turned into an accidental empire, and somewhere along the way, I became the face of avant-garde cashmere, which, let’s be real, isn’t a thing.

(Un)fortunately, I learned pretty quickly that idiosyncrasy was hard to scale. Reality arrived in the form of invoices, backorders, and the quiet recognition that the used cashmere business model would never grow beyond a certain point. As it turned out, the secondhand market worked for a personal aesthetic, but it did not sustain payroll. So we began supplementing reclaimed material with yarn sourced directly from mills, the kind that usually only travels between factories and brands whose archives are older than most American infrastructure.

I realized fairly early on that what we were actually selling was not moral virtue or environmental salvation but irreproducibility, which is a much less socially friendly word but a much more honest one. The material wasn’t rescued; it was redirected, and we had built a reputation on the promise that if a client owned one of our pieces, the statistical likelihood of encountering it again in the wild was close to zero.

Then the investors started circling, and I kept explaining that we didn’t produce excess inventory, that everything moved in small controlled pulses, that if a piece came back to us, which happened rarely but not never, it didn’t become discounted merchandise, it became unfinished material again. I could see them mentally flipping through the standard luxury playbook and failing to find a matching chapter.

Around the same time, my personal life had already forced another structural decision, because about a year ago I had moved from Pittsburgh to New York City for medical treatment. There was exactly one hospital in the country equipped to manage my very particular hematological disorder. The hospital happened to be in Manhattan, which was a deeply inconvenient place to relocate since I was running a labor-heavy manufacturing operation in a different state.

The women who actually constructed the garments stayed in Pittsburgh, partly because they had built their lives there and partly because hiring that level of skill in Manhattan would have required venture capital or a small miracle.

For a while, I lived in this strange geographic split where the brain of the company was in New York and the rest of it was still in western Pennsylvania. (Luckily for me, I had always liked flying.)

This year, by early February, when we had essentially sold through everything, I finally understood that the next phase of the company wasn’t about getting bigger. It was about getting cleaner, more precise, more honest about where humans belonged in the process.

The real decision was not whether I would introduce industrial knitting systems, but whether those machines would live in Pittsburgh, preserving the ecosystem I had built there, or whether this was the moment I relocated production to Brooklyn and accepted that I would be trading stability for proximity and probably aging ten years faster in the process. On paper, that left two questions: where the system would end up, and how many versions of myself I was willing to split into in order to run it. Entrepreneurship (as I learned) is mostly the art of negotiating with alternate versions of oneself who all want incompatible things.

I should also probably admit something less polished. Because beneath all of that operational drama, there was another thought that kept interrupting the narrative in a way I initially didn’t take seriously. I found myself entertaining the least noble and therefore most seductive entrepreneurial fantasy of all: selling the company and disappearing. Not scaling it or shepherding it into some more mature phase of institutional excellence. Just selling it. Taking the money, retaining a tasteful amount of mystique, and allowing someone else to spend their afternoons discussing fulfillment strategy and weighted inventory turnover.

What complicated this fantasy, aside from my own vanity, was that I had no particularly coherent plan for what would come after. I did not dream of beaches or philanthropic panels or becoming one of those women who acquires a ceramic studio the moment she no longer needs one. I wasn’t even sure I wanted freedom in the abstract. I wanted, more specifically, to stop being mechanically necessary to a thing I had never set out to build on purpose. Because for all its mythology, the company had not begun as a calling. It began because I was cold, broke, and allergic to bad fabric. That is not a founder story so much as a highly specific inconvenience with good branding. Somehow I had become the custodian of a business grand enough to require infrastructure, investors, and serious conversations about industrial machinery, when in fact its earliest business model could be summarized as: a broke girl enters a thrift store, develops a point of view.

And that, more than the machines, was what had followed me to the island. I had to make a decision. Either I would step out of the business entirely, or I would commit to it properly by investing in industrial systems and accepting everything that came with that level of scale. This was not a decision that could be deferred indefinitely. By the end of the spring, one version of the future would have to give way to the other.

None of that, of course, needed to be settled before I’d even washed the ferry ride off me. I stepped away from the window and took a long, hot shower.

Then I slipped into a black, oversized cashmere sweater from my very first collection. It barely grazed the tops of my thighs like a mini dress. The shoulders, upper sleeves, and back were adorned with thick, intricate cashmere interweavings that twisted and curled like ram horns.

I was dressed, technically. But only technically.

I padded out to the living room, ready to settle in. My stomach growled, a sharp reminder that I hadn't eaten all day. Though some of my grocery delivery from the mainland had already arrived, I was too tired from the trip to cook anything. So I settled for ordering from the island's seafood joint. I got fried clams, a lobster roll, and chowder.

The chill in the air crept through the old house, biting at my skin even through the sweater. I glanced at the fireplace. It hadn’t been used in years, judging by the layer of ash and soot caked around the edges. I crouched in front of it and opened the flue, silently hoping the chimney wasn’t completely blocked. When I reached up to feel inside, something hard and brittle shifted under my fingers. Before I could pull my hand back, a small object tumbled down, landing with a soft thud in the ashes.

It was a journal. The edges were charred, as though it had been caught in a fire but never fully burned. The leather cover was cracked, and the pages inside were yellowed with age. I held it gingerly, my fingers brushing away the soot.

I set it aside then struck a match and lit the kindling. The warmth spread slowly, chasing away the chill of the room. I sat down, staring into the flickering flames, then reached for the journal again. I opened it carefully, angling the pages toward the firelight. The handwriting was cramped and uneven. I tried to follow it, tracing the ink with my eyes, but the dim light and my own fatigue blurred the meaning into fragments.

The knock on the door startled me. I set the journal down, then pulled the cashmere sweater lower over my thighs and opened the door.

He stood there, holding a brown paper bag with the restaurant’s logo. He was tall and rugged, with the kind of good looks that seemed buried beneath rough edges. His unruly beard suggested a kind of incidental neglect rather than a deliberate style. His dark hair, wind-tousled and loosely pushed back, was damp and curling slightly at the ends.

But it was his eyes that caught and held me. They were glacial gray, the color of the Atlantic in winter. It was as if he wasn’t merely seeing me, but absorbing every detail and filing it away. He looked at me with penetrating focus I wasn’t used to getting from someone delivering food. There was no malice in it, but no warmth either. And despite the disquiet, I couldn’t look away.

Neither of us spoke. We stared at each other for a breath longer than strangers usually do.

“You ordered from Salty’s?” he finally asked.

A wave of déjà vu crashed over me. His face wasn’t familiar in any way I could recall, yet his presence felt like something I had once known but somehow lost.

“Yes,” I said. “Thank you.”

He handed over the bag, his fingers brushing mine before he stepped back. His hands were warm and clean. Mine were caked in soot and the kind of regret you can’t exfoliate.

He lingered a second too long. I looked at him. He looked at me. I was wearing nothing but a sweater dress with horns growing out of the shoulders. My black hair, damp from the shower and still severely tangled by the ferry wind, hung down to my tailbone. Pale skin, green eyes, ash on my hands. I was reasonably sure there was soot on my face, too. In other words, I looked like someone who had narrowly escaped a 1692 public execution in Salem and reemerged on Shadow Island to place a takeout order from Salty's. Was he staring at me because he was silently praying?

He adjusted his stance. “Salty’s doesn’t usually deliver this time of year,” he said. “But the owner’s a friend, and I was already dropping off some fresh catch, so I figured I’d bring it out.”

“Oh,” I said, suddenly self-conscious. “That’s kind of you.”

“Word gets around when someone rents this house. Two months, right?” he asked, his lips curving in the faintest hint of a smile.

“Yes,” I replied, surprised by his knowledge. “Give me a second.” I stepped aside, fumbling with my backpack until I wrestled my wallet free. The faint rustle of bills filled the quiet space as I pulled a few out.

“I really appreciate you going out of your way to deliver this,” I said, holding out the money, slightly unsure whether that was enough for food deliveries on a remote island.

He didn’t move. He looked at the bills in my hand, then at my face, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I felt like I had done something wrong, like tipping him was an offense to some unspoken island rule.

“It’s no big deal,” he finally said. “It was on my way. Enjoy your food.” Then, with a slight nod, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing in the doorway with the money still clutched in my hand. I watched him go, his boots crunching on the gravel.

I shut the door and sat down at the table, taking a bite of my lobster roll. I chewed mechanically while mentally replaying the look in his eyes and scrambling to remember a man I had never actually met.

Soft bread, warm butter, salt air, and the lingering memory of a man who looked like the Grim Reaper’s younger, hotter brother.

Maybe this island wasn’t going to be uneventful after all.

Русские есть везде и придут даже ...

2026-09-29T13:43:26Z

In reply to nevent1q…l6zg
_________________________

Русские есть везде и придут даже без алкоголя. Здравствуйте!

Только сейчас увидела :)

2026-09-29T13:40:39Z

In reply to nevent1q…gxkz
_________________________

Только сейчас увидела :)

Вы говорите по-русски?

2026-09-29T13:40:01Z

In reply to nevent1q…q4la
_________________________

Вы говорите по-русски?

We’re agreeing on more than it sounds like. From the ...

2026-09-28T20:44:11Z

In reply to nevent1q…kmmf
_________________________

We’re agreeing on more than it sounds like.

From the perspective of a one-week-old normie, the first friction happens before Nostr itself. The rest of the internet makes nostr sound much more technical than it actually is. Getting Primal and generating keys is absurdly easy.

But once you’re in, that’s where the learning curve starts. I agree that if you want more of what you’re interested in, you have to actively seek it out instead of just doomscrolling whatever an algorithm hands you. I actually like that. But you still have to know how to seek it out. That is friction too. I have you (!) Other newbie normies don’t.

And sweetie you literally disagreed with me that someone might decide a particular learning curve is unnecessarily annoying and leave, then a paragraph later said you refuse to file formal GitHub bug reports because they’re annoying and simply stop using the thing instead. That’s exactly my point. Choosing not to spend your time overcoming a particular annoyance is not the same as being incapable of overcoming difficulty.

At this point I don’t really question whether Nostr can add value to my life. I’m pretty convinced it can. I’m still trying to figure out how to access more of that value without accidentally spending three years learning where all the doors are.

I think you’re implying that complexity somehow protects ...

2026-09-28T15:22:12Z

In reply to nevent1q…ycs9
_________________________

I think you’re implying that complexity somehow protects Nostr’s good qualities, and that’s where I disagree with you.

Why would flattening the learning curve require destroying what makes Nostr unique, flexible or powerful? You’re treating technical power and user-facing complexity as though they’re the same thing. They don’t have to be. You can have an extraordinarily sophisticated system underneath and an interface that exposes almost none of that sophistication unless or until the user wants it. That’s basically the history of consumer computing.

And I’m not convinced that people willing to tolerate a steep learning curve are necessarily more capable. They may simply be unusually motivated to tolerate this particular learning curve. A brilliant novelist, surgeon, architect, entrepreneur, physicist, chef or filmmaker might encounter Nostr, decide it’s unnecessarily annoying, and leave. Their unwillingness to learn relay management tells us approximately nothing about their intelligence or what they might have contributed.

How much of Nostr’s complexity actually needs to be visible to the person using it?

Also, let me make sure I understood the other part correctly. You’re saying getting through the door is easy, but what happens once you’re inside has been debated for years and nobody has really solved it yet.

So you guys built this extraordinary building, opened the front door, and have spent the last few years standing in the hallway arguing about the floor plan?

But isn’t the self-selection you’re describing partly a ...

2026-09-28T04:33:02Z

In reply to nevent1q…9fqj
_________________________

But isn’t the self-selection you’re describing partly a consequence of the current friction? If you removed some of that friction, wouldn’t you simply find out whether there are more competent and curious people out there who never made it through the door?

Maybe we need a new app built on Nostr with admissions. You ...

2026-09-28T04:22:20Z

In reply to nevent1q…es59
_________________________

Maybe we need a new app built on Nostr with admissions. You can’t just join. A randomly selected jury of existing users reviews your application. You have to demonstrate curiosity, basic competence, and an ability to contribute to the community.

We can be the first to bring bureaucracy to a permissionless protocol.

A social network specifically designed not to achieve mass adoption. lol

Then maybe the problem isn’t Nostr. Maybe the answer is simply ...

2026-09-28T04:07:57Z

In reply to nevent1q…dpy9
_________________________

Then maybe the problem isn’t Nostr. Maybe the answer is simply a better client.

I write dozens of handwritten cards to my customers every week, ...

2026-09-28T04:06:27Z

In reply to nevent1q…snnr
_________________________

I write dozens of handwritten cards to my customers every week, and I know the difference between a protocol and a platform 😎 Normies contain multitudes.

If there isn’t enough material aimed specifically at ordinary ...

2026-09-28T04:02:07Z

In reply to nevent1q…snnr
_________________________

If there isn’t enough material aimed specifically at ordinary users, then developer-facing explanations inevitably become the public explanation by default. And to a normie looking in from the outside, they make the barrier to entry look considerably higher than it actually is.

#Normie on #Nostr, Day 7. A week ago when I joined, I didn’t ...

2026-09-28T03:56:33Z

#Normie on #Nostr, Day 7. A week ago when I joined, I didn’t really think of becoming part of the community. I figured I’d just upload my manuscripts and hope they outlive me on relays. Free perpetual-ish online storage.

Then I got here, looked around, and I liked it! I like all of the non-normie sass, and I hope to learn from you guys!

I am genuinely confused though whether the non-normie locals want more people to join Nostr, or would rather keep it the small, highly technical, self-selecting community it already is. From what I’ve seen so far, I certainly don’t get the overwhelming impression that making Nostr more appealing or intelligible to normies is a priority.

#GrowNostr

Do you grow them?

2026-09-27T15:12:55Z

In reply to nevent1q…gac4
_________________________

Do you grow them?

You’re thinking of the wrong normies! But I do agree that ...

2026-09-27T15:11:51Z

In reply to nevent1q…p7g6
_________________________

You’re thinking of the wrong normies! But I do agree that normies don’t need to know how Nostr works, just as normies don’t know a thing about Instagram’s backend. I’d known about Nostr for about 1.5 years before I finally gave it a try. Every time I heard non-normies explain it on YouTube, I thought I’d need to understand public-key cryptography, relay architecture, NIPs, key custody, and preferably have a PhD from Harvard in applied cryptography. It genuinely took less time and was easier to get started on Nostr than it was to register for Substack, which I did at the same time.

Well you see I’m not the only one taking pictures of the sky!

2026-09-27T14:39:52Z

In reply to nevent1q…529g
_________________________

Well you see I’m not the only one taking pictures of the sky!

Being the new kid in town has historically gotten me bullied, not ...

2026-09-27T04:25:00Z

In reply to nevent1q…uw5k
_________________________

Being the new kid in town has historically gotten me bullied, not welcomed. Add “censorship-resistant” and I fully expected at least a few people to tell me to go back where I came from. Instead, everyone has been remarkably nice. That’s the part that surprises me the most.

As for how I ended up here, I promised 3 separate people I’d make a deliberate effort to start interacting with the world again. I considered my options and somehow Nostr seemed like the least noisy place to do it. So here I am.

Our online identities are fragmented now since most of us exist ...

2026-09-27T03:37:21Z

In reply to nevent1q…zlul
_________________________

Our online identities are fragmented now since most of us exist in several different places on the internet and getting buried under an enormous pile of ai generated content. Why not organize those individual presences under one digital identity that no single institution can erase? The Fishcake🐶🐾 (npub137c…k37w)

Wait, which thinking mentality? There appear to be several ...

2026-09-27T03:30:03Z

In reply to nevent1q…7ufk
_________________________

Wait, which thinking mentality? There appear to be several competing ones around here.

Last year I saw two double rainbows one month apart in 2 ...

2026-09-27T03:22:49Z

In reply to nevent1q…2uj7
_________________________

Last year I saw two double rainbows one month apart in 2 different states. Last time I saw one was probably 20-30 years ago.

Double rainbow ❣️that’s so beautiful!

2026-09-27T03:18:17Z

In reply to nevent1q…wyyu
_________________________

Double rainbow ❣️that’s so beautiful!

Oh my god!!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

2026-09-27T03:07:37Z

In reply to nevent1q…ey48
_________________________

Oh my god!!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Ok. This remains a niche hobby. Another argument for the hashtag ...

2026-09-27T03:05:03Z

In reply to nevent1q…2uj7
_________________________

Ok. This remains a niche hobby. Another argument for the hashtag directory. Someone could be witnessing Kelvin–Helmholtz clouds right now and I don’t know.

Then don’t sweat it. It’ll work out. Somehow it always does.

2026-09-27T03:01:46Z

In reply to nevent1q…jd3e
_________________________

Then don’t sweat it. It’ll work out. Somehow it always does.

Maybe part of solving monetization is recognizing that Nostr is ...

2026-09-27T02:58:04Z

In reply to nevent1q…928y
_________________________

Maybe part of solving monetization is recognizing that Nostr is more of an advanced international airport (still under construction though), and not just another airline trying to compete with the established ones.

Punctuality has always been one of my major flaws. Sorry I’m a ...

2026-09-27T02:51:53Z

In reply to nevent1q…3zk0
_________________________

Punctuality has always been one of my major flaws. Sorry I’m a few years late, but I’m here now!

Glad you’re here!

2026-09-27T02:49:22Z

In reply to nevent1q…dusf
_________________________

Glad you’re here!

I don’t think I know how to create or join groups just yet, but ...

2026-09-27T02:48:38Z

In reply to nevent1q…dnj8
_________________________

I don’t think I know how to create or join groups just yet, but I’m definitely going to look into that. Thank you! And the social connection part is exactly why I’m on Nostr.

I’d like to know what you are doing with carrots.

2026-09-27T02:45:59Z

In reply to nevent1q…ca48
_________________________

I’d like to know what you are doing with carrots.

I watched you on YouTube. You were one of the videos I found out ...

2026-09-27T02:42:05Z

In reply to nevent1q…xxnc
_________________________

I watched you on YouTube. You were one of the videos I found out about nostr.

hey, you don’t know what the normies might contribute! And ...

2026-09-27T02:37:52Z

In reply to nevent1q…a6qv
_________________________

hey, you don’t know what the normies might contribute! And considering the number of non-normies around here, I have more faith in you guys eventually figuring that one out!

Fall’s only flaw is that it ends.

2026-09-27T02:27:23Z

In reply to nevent1q…lkjt
_________________________

Fall’s only flaw is that it ends.

Did something happen?

2026-09-27T02:25:47Z

In reply to nevent1q…429c
_________________________

Did something happen?

Life: plot twist.

2026-09-27T02:25:35Z

In reply to nevent1q…429c
_________________________

Life: plot twist.

Thank you all for explaining Nostr hashtags. I read everything! I ...

2026-09-26T17:41:52Z

Thank you all for explaining Nostr hashtags. I read everything! I guess for now a way to keep topics/interests organized and accessible is through a thread, right?

One of my hobbies is “cloud chasing”. I want to see as much beautiful, strange, unusual sky/clouds as I possibly can in my lifetime!

Yesterday I was in Louisville, Ohio, a tiny town I’d never heard of before. This was the sky over N Bauman Ct & E Main St.

Let me see your sky!

We are all #UnderOneSky

Thanks!

2026-09-26T17:12:42Z

In reply to nevent1q…n3qn
_________________________

Thanks!

Hi! Quick technical question: if I make a note and ask people to ...

2026-09-26T16:48:42Z

In reply to nevent1q…xqar
_________________________

Hi! Quick technical question: if I make a note and ask people to reply to it with a photo, can most users attach photos directly to their replies? Thank you! And have a great weekend!

A painter from Italy welcoming a writer from Siberia into a ...

2026-09-25T04:13:46Z

In reply to nevent1q…w5c4
_________________________

A painter from Italy welcoming a writer from Siberia into a strange corner of the internet! I’m beginning to think this place might be exactly what I was looking for without knowing it. Thank you for such a thoughtful welcome! I promise to remain curious and ask inconvenient questions! Making trouble, I’m afraid, comes naturally.

How many bots do I have?

2026-09-25T04:05:49Z

In reply to nevent1q…5y2l
_________________________

How many bots do I have?

I am a real human person, they had me tested! I’ll check out ...

2026-09-25T04:00:22Z

In reply to nevent1q…javj
_________________________

I am a real human person, they had me tested! I’ll check out your show!

“Whatever you want it to be” sounds like a dangerously ...

2026-09-25T03:42:39Z

In reply to nevent1q…eeur
_________________________

“Whatever you want it to be” sounds like a dangerously exciting proposition!

Day 5 of a normie. Feeling a bit disappointed with Nostr but ...

2026-09-25T03:38:03Z

Day 5 of a normie. Feeling a bit disappointed with Nostr but increasingly fascinated by its people.

Would you agree that people use social media primarily for consumption and connection? If so, I think we’ve become extraordinarily good at producing and distributing content, but remarkably inefficient at discovering people worth knowing. Being visible is not the same as being known. Content can now be manufactured almost infinitely, and perhaps the next great opportunity in social media isn’t finding more to consume, but finding more people to connect with. For a protocol that could make human connection its greatest advantage, I find Nostr remarkably difficult to navigate socially.

Can I speak to the manager, please?

Is anyone working on browsable hashtag directories, both across Nostr and within individual profiles? I’m looking for discovery without having to know what to search for in advance. I just wanna choose a subject and click on it.

Freedom from an algorithm shouldn’t mean freedom from discoverability.

How hard is it to build that?

#NormieAudacity #UnsolicitedAdviceFromGenPop #ProposedRenovations

These would look great in the hashtag directory!

fiatjaf (nprofile…zug3) The Fishcake🐶🐾 (nprofile…vja8)

It looks like you’ve seen this movie before. Unfortunately, ...

2026-09-24T12:49:44Z

In reply to nevent1q…45pp
_________________________

It looks like you’ve seen this movie before. Unfortunately, today is already day 5 and I’m slightly past the “I’d like someone to build it exactly the way I envision it.” I’ve tried 3 different clients last night and kind of moved from imagining what Nostr could become to being rather disappointed by what it currently is. I’m now contemplating whether I owe Nostr a gracious farewell post, out of respect for what it could become.

Although, if the urge to build your own app is practically a rite of passage around here, perhaps I’m not the only one wondering why a decentralized publishing protocol that offers creators independence from individual platforms has yet to produce a sufficiently compelling environment for people like me.

At least it’s reassuring to know I’m not the only one. Thank you.

Dear #Nostr community, It’s only my 4th day here, and someone ...

2026-09-23T21:55:32Z

Dear #Nostr community,

It’s only my 4th day here, and someone has kindly offered to help me explore different clients. She just needs a screenshot of my public and private keys. What’s the best way to send it to her if my DMs aren’t working?

I originally registered through #Primal, but I’ve since learned that Android devices might offer a more interesting Nostr experience. Unfortunately, I’m a self-confessed #normie, and I haven’t quite figured out a lot of stuff yet.

Just kidding.

I haven’t lost my #nsec (yet).

Just checking if y’all are still paying attention.

#AskNostr

I’m going to need you to explain how someone who considers ...

2026-09-23T15:48:29Z

In reply to nevent1q…xh6l
_________________________

I’m going to need you to explain how someone who considers Disney an evil influence on the world ended up drinking Russian cucumber Sprite there

sibericana@proton.me I’m not that bad with technology !!

2026-09-23T15:45:04Z

In reply to nevent1q…l75z
_________________________

sibericana@proton.me I’m not that bad with technology !!

Thank you! I’m not sure lucky is quite the word. There are ...

2026-09-23T15:25:00Z

In reply to nevent1q…hxca
_________________________

Thank you! I’m not sure lucky is quite the word. There are advantages, certainly, but I sometimes wish the rest of the world came with adjustable settings. Textures and smells for sure.

Why 🤢🤮?

2026-09-23T15:22:14Z

In reply to nevent1q…3dkr
_________________________

Why 🤢🤮?

No, I don’t think so. Some of those words kinda sound familiar ...

2026-09-23T15:20:41Z

In reply to nevent1q…mkew
_________________________

No, I don’t think so. Some of those words kinda sound familiar though.

And anyone can see everyone’s public key? Cause I don’t think ...

2026-09-23T15:19:36Z

In reply to nevent1q…my0w
_________________________

And anyone can see everyone’s public key? Cause I don’t think I can. Give me the philosophical questions!

No dms

2026-09-23T15:17:30Z

In reply to nevent1q…6zkq
_________________________

No dms

Where did you find the Russian sprite?

2026-09-23T15:13:49Z

In reply to nevent1q…8hhl
_________________________

Where did you find the Russian sprite?

I have a problem with this question because I cannot separate ...

2026-09-23T15:13:22Z

In reply to nevent1q…xxfr
_________________________

I have a problem with this question because I cannot separate flavor from texture, smell, temperature, even color, and occasionally the circumstances under which something enters my mouth. Are we talking about the smooth, glossy supermarket variety cucumbers or the little bumpy ones straight from the garden? Because those are two entirely different experiences, and I have strong feelings about each.

I seem to have two categories of favorite flavors: one permanent, and another that changes every few months.

The permanent one is coffee. But it has to be a very specific coffee, prepared a very specific way, served hot, and consumed immediately upon waking, before brushing my teeth or allowing absolutely anything else into my mouth. I have maintained this relationship for over twenty years.

My current seasonal obsession is what I call honey pears. Golden yellow, almost overripe, fragrant that I can smell them when taking a bite, with that particular texture where the flesh practically dissolves and the juice runs everywhere. And again, nothing else in my mouth. The pear must have my undivided attention.

I was told that I may be neurodivergent, but I think it’s a lie. I think having standards for my vegetables does not constitute a neurological condition.

Thank you! A worldwide craft fair is a much more different ...

2026-09-23T04:42:10Z

In reply to nevent1q…lz0e
_________________________

Thank you! A worldwide craft fair is a much more different description than anything involving protocols and relays. I came here to write, but I’m beginning to suspect I’ll be staying for the people. Speaking of people, how do you know if you’re talking to a human or to a bot? What’s the social etiquette here, given that so many people use pseudonyms and anonymous profile pictures? Is it acceptable to ask someone their age, gender (I’m not sure if that’s acceptable to ask in real life either), where they live, etc? Also, thank you for the #asknostr tip! I’ve already used that but is there somewhere I can find commonly used hashtags, particularly ones related to learning about Nostr and its culture? I’d like to familiarize myself with the local customs.

Thank you, Dawn! This is starting to make sense, which is a ...

2026-09-23T04:32:16Z

In reply to nevent1q…hjxq
_________________________

Thank you, Dawn! This is starting to make sense, which is a development I hadn’t anticipated quite so soon. I’ll explore your suggestions!

I believe you’ve made a typo. You used the word “simple” ...

2026-09-23T04:21:57Z

In reply to nevent1q…9ych
_________________________

I believe you’ve made a typo. You used the word “simple” when describing the Nostr protocol. I thought I’d point that out before the real pedants arrive.

Thank you for the compliments, although I’m socially awkward enough that I never quite know what to do with them. I generally prefer to pretend they haven’t happened and hope the other person doesn’t notice.

About the nsec. I’ve taken a screenshot of it, but I’m beginning to suspect that keeping it in my dikpik folder (all unsolicited obviously) isn’t the cybersecurity strategy you had in mind. What do people ordinarily do with these things? Print them out and keep them with their passports?

I’m asking because I’ve accumulated approximately 700 satoshis in the last few days, and I see no reason to rule out the possibility of sending my child to college with them in eight years. I’d hate to lose access to the family fortune.

On a more serious note, I’d genuinely love to read your novel. Japanese fantasy isn’t something I ordinarily gravitate toward, which makes me all the more curious. I’d be happy to read it as a reader or if you need any firsthand insight into the experience of being transported into another world, I’d be happy to consult on your novel!!

And thank you for taking the time to explain everything. I appreciate it, particularly because you’ve managed to make this strange place feel considerably less strange without making it any less interesting.

It’s ok, I’m not worried about that “primal iOS”

2026-09-23T03:57:35Z

In reply to nevent1q…xxj6
_________________________

It’s ok, I’m not worried about that “primal iOS”

Thank you for taking the time to explain all of this! I am ...

2026-09-23T03:56:18Z

In reply to nevent1q…xdke
_________________________

Thank you for taking the time to explain all of this! I am genuinely grateful. I do have questions, and they might sound silly. If I understand correctly, Sibericana is simply the name I’ve declared for my identity, rather than a unique handle I’ve registered. Does that mean someone else could create an entirely different identity and call themselves exactly the same thing? Is there a way to claim a “nostr-universal handle”? Can I use several clients simultaneously with the same keypair? For example, could I remain logged into Primal while exploring YakiHonne and other applications, all under the same identity? I’m slightly reluctant to log out or even try to log into another client in case if that automatically logs me out of primal at this stage, as I’m not entirely convinced I’d ever find my way back in. I know I’ll understand all of this better once I’ve experienced how the different clients and relays work together, rather than attempting to memorize the theory, I just need practice. And “Creating identity” is why I came here in the first place. #asknostr

Thank you!

2026-09-23T00:29:09Z

In reply to nevent1q…0mxw
_________________________

Thank you!

What else can you see about me?! I’ll try yakihonne.

2026-09-23T00:28:06Z

In reply to nevent1q…zpqe
_________________________

What else can you see about me?! I’ll try yakihonne.

I appreciate you preparing me for the real pedants and admitting ...

2026-09-23T00:26:16Z

In reply to nevent1q…ves9
_________________________

I appreciate you preparing me for the real pedants and admitting me on the basis of not being an idiot (provisionally).

Wow. From all of the above so far I only have newly discovered ...

2026-09-23T00:21:28Z

In reply to nevent1q…etpz
_________________________

Wow. From all of the above so far I only have newly discovered lead in the walls of my 92 year old house. Even that (hopefully) is temporarily. Let’s be friends, I’ll come visit you in your kingdom.

Thank you for taking the time to explain all of this! I like your ...

2026-09-23T00:03:41Z

In reply to nevent1q…23hd
_________________________

Thank you for taking the time to explain all of this! I like your observation that Nostr is what you make of it, and I think “find your weird” is a philosophy I can comfortably get behind. I think I needed it for a while now.

And yes, I would love to hear more about relays and how you use them to shape your experience here. I don’t know if it matters, but I have an iPhone and I’m not in IT. Which client would you recommend?

Also, what kind of stuff do you write, and is any of your work available somewhere I could read it?

And thank you for being one of the first people to engage with me here! It’s made my introduction to this strange little corner of the internet considerably more interesting.

Hello! Let’s chat!

2026-09-22T23:59:17Z

In reply to nevent1q…5mf2
_________________________

Hello! Let’s chat!

Thank you!

2026-09-22T23:50:25Z

In reply to nevent1q…7uwu
_________________________

Thank you!

Thanks for the yakihonne. I’ll check it out.

2026-09-22T23:47:35Z

In reply to nevent1q…afc9
_________________________

Thanks for the yakihonne. I’ll check it out.

Nostr would occasionally come up on YouTube in various videos. I ...

2026-09-22T23:47:02Z

In reply to nevent1q…afc9
_________________________

Nostr would occasionally come up on YouTube in various videos. I thought it would be time consuming and hard to figure out how to register. It took me a bit over a year to finally do it. Ironically, registering on Primal took less than a minute.

A censorship-resistant network, and here I am, inexplicably ...

2026-09-22T23:41:11Z

In reply to nevent1q…g9yy
_________________________

A censorship-resistant network, and here I am, inexplicably wanting to behave myself. I haven’t experienced this level of restraint in quite some time, and frankly, I’m both happy and a little concerned.

I think I’ve just discovered the entrance to the rabbit hole, ...

2026-09-22T23:37:48Z

In reply to nevent1q…ydp3
_________________________

I think I’ve just discovered the entrance to the rabbit hole, and I’m rather delighted to learn that there is an entire Wonderland waiting to be explored! So far I’m quite happy to have discovered this particular corner of the internet to begin with.

And please accept my most sincere apologies for the improper use of terminology. I shall endeavor to distinguish between Nostr and its various manifestations with greater precision in the future!

I would actually love to know how to navigate all of this. What’s the best way to discover interesting people, conversations, or particular subjects without an algorithm? How do I find people or how do I make myself findable? So far, I’ve been using Primal exclusively, and searching for topics or hashtags hasn’t been particularly fruitful. I feel like there’s an entire world here that I simply haven’t figured out how to access yet.

Thank you, Dawn! I am not an IT person. I know absolutely nothing ...

2026-09-22T23:26:47Z

In reply to nevent1q…p5mp
_________________________

Thank you, Dawn! I am not an IT person. I know absolutely nothing about programming or coding.

I’m particularly curious about the underexplored possibilities you mentioned. Without an algorithm, I’m finding Nostr surprisingly difficult to navigate. Or perhaps I’ve simply become lazy after years of having everything shoved down my throat.

So far, I’ve been using Primal exclusively, and I suspect I’m seeing only a very small portion of what’s available. Are there other clients you particularly enjoy or would recommend to someone who’s just starting out and has absolutely no IT background?

I’d love to hear more about what you think remains underexplored here!

I do wanna know this thing about “good mornings”

2026-09-22T23:16:03Z

In reply to nevent1q…mkcn
_________________________

I do wanna know this thing about “good mornings”

Today was one of those wonderfully slow rainy days, and I spent a ...

2026-09-22T23:14:14Z

Today was one of those wonderfully slow rainy days, and I spent a considerable portion of it contemplating the fact that I overnight became 11 cents richer. More importantly, these 11 cents amount to 124 satoshis, which means that, through circumstances I still do not entirely understand, I am now suddenly invested in the future of #Bitcoin.

And while I am still trying to understand why complete strangers on the internet give one another money for what appears to be no reason at all, I have already made peace with the possibility that my literary career may have peaked financially on my third day on #Nostr.

Three days ago, I would have confidently declared that I cannot be bought. Today, I have 124 satoshis, and I sincerely wish Bitcoin a long and prosperous future.

#Sibericana

A very accurate representation of my first three days on Nostr.

2026-09-22T16:26:24Z

In reply to nevent1q…hk7r
_________________________

A very accurate representation of my first three days on Nostr.

I used to write personal, epistolary nonfiction, but then I ...

2026-09-22T02:24:45Z

In reply to nevent1q…lklp
_________________________

I used to write personal, epistolary nonfiction, but then I stopped writing almost entirely for over 15 years. A few years ago, I started writing fiction, and my first book should be published by the end of this year, or perhaps early next year.

And thank you for my very first zap! I know embarrassingly little about Bitcoin, but thanks to you, I discovered today that I’ve officially become a Bitcoin holder. Quite an unexpected development for someone who had no particular business being on Nostr. Thank you!

I thought it was extraordinary that someone could have that kind ...

2026-09-22T02:18:58Z

In reply to nevent1q…8hqf
_________________________

I thought it was extraordinary that someone could have that kind of discipline. What moved me most, though, was reading about his life as his health progressively deteriorates. Somewhere in the year of entries I read, he mentioned a couple of times that if he ever goes more than 2-3 days without posting, it probably means he’s gone. That absolutely broke my heart. And yet, through all the pain and limitations of his circumstances, he continues to notice and document the smallest, most ordinary beautiful things around him. I wonder if he realizes how much of himself he’s leaving behind in those entries, or how profoundly a complete stranger might be affected by them.

How long have you been on Nostr? I’m only a few days in and ...

2026-09-22T02:07:42Z

In reply to nevent1q…44gg
_________________________

How long have you been on Nostr? I’m only a few days in and still figuring out how to use Primal, let alone what the platform is capable of. I’m particularly curious about the social dynamics here. Do you know if people share much of their personal lives and get to know each other over time, or is it predominantly a place for discussing technology, Bitcoin, and current events?

I’m relatively new to social media in general, and Nostr is currently the only platform I’m using. I suppose I’m trying to understand whether people come here primarily for information and discussion or whether there’s also a sense of community, with people following each other’s lives and forming genuine connections over time.

I’d be curious to hear your observations if you’ve been around for a while.

2 days ago I discovered a man from my tiny hometown who’s been ...

2026-09-21T04:04:43Z

In reply to nevent1q…65l7
_________________________

2 days ago I discovered a man from my tiny hometown who’s been blogging on LiveJournal almost daily!!! for TWENTY YEARS. Stayed up until 2 a.m. last night reading it. Made me miss the early internet, when people simply documented their lives. Mono no aware / the bittersweet beauty of things passing by.

Hi! I was looking for an alternative to social media where being ...

2026-09-21T04:00:09Z

In reply to nevent1q…y4eq
_________________________

Hi! I was looking for an alternative to social media where being an ordinary person somehow feels insufficient. I’m too lazy to package my life into something aesthetically pleasing or commercially viable.

I’d heard of Nostr on YouTube but never looked into it. ...

2026-09-21T03:56:49Z

In reply to nevent1q…ylg3
_________________________

I’d heard of Nostr on YouTube but never looked into it. Recently, Chatty suggested I try it for writing. I needed somewhere I wouldn’t care if I belonged, free from my own vanity and need for validation. A social experiment of sorts.

I came here thinking I had no particular business being on Nostr. ...

2026-09-21T03:05:12Z

I came here thinking I had no particular business being on Nostr. The more I understand what you’ve built, the less I understand why so many of you use it primarily as a Bitcoin discussion forum. I suspect this place has considerably more to offer than its locals have yet had occasion to discover.