About the Person Feeding This Site With Frustration

It would probably be polite to have an introduction article. Something about me, the person who will feed this blog with frustration, sarcasm, occasional bad mood, and whatever else leaks out of my head.

The problem is that I do not really like talking about myself.

My favorite activity is pretending I do not exist. This blog is obviously the opposite of that activity, which makes the whole thing slightly uncomfortable. But introducing myself feels like a basic act of politeness, so here we are.

Painful, but necessary.

Who Is the Frustrated Person?

So who is the frustrated, sometimes upset, occasionally sarcastic, and from time to time mildly bitchy person behind this site?

My name is Milan.

The surname can be uncovered via court order if someone has absolutely nothing better to do than sue me because of some article. Good luck with that little hobby.

I have been alive for more than 45 years, which is long enough to collect skills, disappointments, unfinished ideas, strange opinions, and enough life experience to know that people are often the main technical problem in almost every system.

I have worked as a gardener, a training manager in a telecommunications company, and also as a journalist. I build and design websites. I design PCB boards. I build my own audio gear. Sometimes I have the feeling that I know a lot and can do almost anything, but nothing at 100%.

A lovely curse.

Sadly, I also seem to have a lack of business talent. That part really sucks.

Always Doing Something, or Sleeping

My downside is that I always have to do something relevant. Or sleep. Nothing between.

Maybe IT SUCKS! is the “between.” A strange digital sofa where frustration can sit down, take its shoes off, and complain for a while.

I work on many tech projects at the same time, which means deadlines are usually a problem. Not because I do nothing, but because I do too many things at once. It is a fantastic system if the goal is constant mental traffic.

I prefer reading news about technology. New devices, new ideas, electronics, audio, software, weird inventions, broken platforms, and all the nice nerdy stuff.

Reading about politicians, influencers, movie stars, music stars, and their amazing public wisdom usually raises my blood pressure.

Not always. Just often enough.

My Mental Health, Since Someone Will Ask

Perhaps I should also disclose my mental health, because these days everyone is apparently one comment away from being analyzed by strangers online.

I think I am quite okay.

I am loving, kind, and caring toward people who deserve it. I just have issues burying frustration immediately. It usually takes about two or three minutes, which is clearly too long in modern society.

Sometimes I want things done now. Sometimes I lose patience. Sometimes I roll my eyes so hard I probably see part of my brain.

I guess I also have a fragile ego in some areas. Great. Human defect detected. And that is basically it.

Why Write Instead of Explode?

Some people are much more frustrated than I am. Some get genuinely angry. Some become dangerous. Some go outside and protest. And during some protests, some people apparently decide that “having an opinion” means robbery, vandalism, aggression, or throwing things like a badly raised circus animal.

Why can’t some people protest peacefully?

Maybe they feel they are not heard. Maybe they are angry. Maybe they are idiots. Maybe all of the above. Life is rich with options.

I do not plan to go mad. I do not plan to go outside and protest in the street. As an introvert, I feel much better at home, where the coffee is better and nobody is blocking traffic while pretending to save civilization.

So I decided to make this site.

A place where I can write whatever I want, and no one will delete my stuff just because honesty makes someone itchy.

Honesty Gets Deleted Too Fast

Usually, honesty is quickly deleted on social networks, in comment sections under newspaper articles, and in all those lovely little spaces with headings like:

“Leave a comment.”

What they often mean is:

“Leave a comment, but only if it fits the acceptable emotional temperature, ideological flavor, and mood of the moderator.”

Wonderful.

Being politically correct sucks.

I am sick of it. It often feels less like politeness and more like public theater where everyone pretends not to notice obvious things.

It seems like the majority is getting hurt by every little shit. But I do not think it is really the majority. It is usually a loud minority. Activists. Experts. Academics pulled out of real life and placed carefully into opinion laboratories.

And before someone starts screaming, no, I am not saying all activists, all experts, or all academics are idiots.

Relax.

But it often feels like many of them are freaks with endless ideas about how to restrict, regulate, monitor, limit, rename, control, supervise, and “improve” ordinary people’s lives.

I am sick of the only “correct” opinions.

People Talk, But They Do Not Listen

Discussion is something many people are no longer capable of doing. They talk, but they do not listen. They argue, but they do not think. They demand respect, but they do not offer any.

They do not accept different opinions. They do not even try to find a compromise. Everything becomes extreme. Left. Right. Good. Evil. Saint. Monster. Genius. Idiot.

Nothing between.

And the “between” is usually where real life actually happens.

My Former Idealist Era

When I was 20, I wanted to change the world into a better place. Yes, really.

I was young, happy, proud, naive, and even a part-time Greenpeace activist. A lovely little idealist package with too much hope and not enough sarcasm.

I am glad I figured it out quite early.

These days, when I hear someone say, “Let’s change the world into a better place,” I just roll my eyes.

It always sounds like:

“Yeah, no problem, we’ll fix humanity by next month.”

Sure.

Let me know when the update is available.

So Why IT SUCKS!?

Do I expect fame? Nope.

Would it be cool if this blog became famous? Of course. I am not going to pretend I would cry in the corner if people actually read it.

But fame sounds exhausting. I would probably have to make statements, serve public wisdom, give interviews, explain myself, smile politely, and pretend I enjoy attention.

No, thanks.

So I will just keep writing.

This site exists because some things deserve to be written down. Maybe not for the world. Maybe just for me.

Bad decisions. Public nonsense. Fake kindness. Corporate theater. Political circus. Influencer wisdom. Social hypocrisy. Digital stupidity. Expert opinions that somehow forgot real life exists.

I do not expect everyone to agree with me.

Actually, that would be suspicious.

But I do want a place where frustration can be written honestly, without pretending everything is beautiful, inclusive, inspiring, empowering, sustainable, transformative, and sprinkled with emotional glitter.

Sometimes something is just stupid. Sometimes someone is annoying. Sometimes the whole thing is fake, psycho, ridiculous, overregulated, overexplained, overperformed, or simply broken. And honestly? It sucks.