老朝奉 No audience

老朝奉 probably doesn’t have much of an audience.

Someone asked: If it’s only for recording yourself, a private diary or encrypted document would suffice. So why does “老朝奉” have a website, putting articles out in the wilderness of the internet?
老朝奉 answers: Making the website public is to give ritual to the words, allowing me to face the world with a solitary stance, while leaving a door open for potential resonance, and to refine the clarity of the words under the tension of possible scrutiny.

Some people won’t click in.
It’s not that they don’t understand,
but they’re unsure if it’s worth their time.

In this hesitation,
any preconceived impression
can become a reason to give up.

But there’s another reason.
”老朝奉” The name itself makes some people uncomfortable.

It sounds too certain,
and carries a layer of elusive mystery.
This combination of authority and mystery,
even before understanding the content,
makes some people resist it from the start.

Interestingly,
in other places where “老朝奉” isn’t used as a name,
the same expression is easier to accept,
and readers accumulate more naturally.

It’s hard not to realize:
some resistance
doesn’t come from the content,
but from the posture the name conveys.

Some people feel that,
to endorse it,
would seem like admitting they are in a lower position;
while disliking it
makes them appear clear-headed, independent, unaffected.

So the easiest way,
is simply not to read, not to acknowledge, not to care.

Some come to learn certain areas of knowledge,
but there’s very little technical or tutorial content here,
so they don’t linger for long.

Some know that I have been writing here,
but they simply don’t care about the content,
nor do they have interest.
In my heart, I have to admit: we are perhaps not seeking the same scenery.

A friend of mine whom I’ve known for over ten years and still keep in touch with read it,
but he felt these words couldn’t be mine.
Not because of a change in style,
but because in his entrenched perception,
“I” should not possess such expressive ability.
When the writing surpassed this preset notion,
he would rather doubt its origin
than update his judgment.

There are also those
who come with pre-prepared lenses.
They’re not really reading the words,
but measuring the writer by their own standards — whether the character meets their approval, or whether the economic status matches their own.
If it fails, the words are naturally not taken seriously.

This is not specifically referring to old acquaintances in my life. That pair of “pre-prepared lenses” wasn’t polished for me alone. They are built by the yellowed Daoist texts, gilded success manuals, and even the floating dust of the whole era. People just happen to put them on, looking at me, or any writer who enters their field of vision.

There are also those
who measure everything with more realistic and popular standards:
if an expression cannot bring profit,
it has no value.
In this system, if words cannot be converted into traffic, returns, or resources,
they naturally lose their meaning of existence.

I have seen all these reactions,
and I understand them.
They are not new,
they can even be said to be quite common.

Yet, when all perspectives are stacked together,
I suddenly realize a fact:
老朝奉’s writing has never existed to please others.

doesn’t try to justify itself,
doesn’t prove what it can write,
doesn’t defend its ability,
and doesn’t participate in value exchange.

is more like a record.
Recording a person who, without applause,
and without consensus,
still chooses to write down thoughts.

I am not in a hurry to defend the “lack of audience.”
Being seen is certainly good,
but not being seen
does not equal nonexistence.

Some words
are simply not written for the majority.
They are more like marks left in time —
reminding oneself:
I have seen the world this way, and I have expressed myself this honestly.

If you happen to read this,
whether by chance or patience,
then these words — and the thoughts they carry — have at least accomplished one thing:
They have been understood once.

Someone asked: If it’s only for recording yourself, a private diary or encrypted document would suffice. So why does “老朝奉” have a website, putting articles out in the wilderness of the internet?
老朝奉 answers: Making the website public is to give ritual to the words, allowing me to face the world with a solitary stance, while leaving a door open for potential resonance, and to refine the clarity of the words under the tension of possible scrutiny.

As for whether there is an audience,
that has never been the premise for me to write.