My account has been suspended.
Actually, I wasn't suspended for very long, but this incident made me think about things I wouldn't normally think about. When I was suspended, I had two main feelings: one was a sense of relief, and the other was that I started to rethink what creation really is.
During those days, I saw someone leave a message saying that he was also wondering if this incident would make him write more "for himself". I thought about it, but it doesn't seem to be the case for me, because what I post has always been what I want to write.
For me, it's a different story. The platform's format has unknowingly become the starting point for my creations. I'll think about where I want to publish it and what I want it to look like before I start writing, and in the end, all I can write is something that fits into that format.
Moreover, this time, despite being suspended, I actually produced a lot more content than before. This makes me wonder if I've always had so much to write about, but I'm usually held back by the question of "what to post and where to post it," preventing it from flowing out.
In order to get my work published on the platform, I wrote less and less.
I've been thinking about what this feeling is like.
It's a bit like turning the faucet very small to fit a poorly designed outlet, allowing only just enough water to flow out. So, what I output becomes very little, just to fit the size of that outlet. Or, it's more like a plug, or a gate with a hole. In short, I could actually output a lot more, but it's all restricted by that outlet.
I find this quite interesting because I hadn't thought about it before. Originally, I wanted to express myself through social media, but in the process, limitations of certain templates, other people's perspectives, and even expectations gradually created an obstacle, like an exit. Could it be that these burdens are what prevent me from creating smoothly when I'm posting?
Someone who can't seem to get started reminds me of my past self.
Speaking of this, I remember someone who came to me for advice before, and he also couldn't get started.
He said he really wanted to put his work online, but hadn't started yet. I asked him if there were any other reasons besides technical issues that had kept him from taking action. I also asked him if, if he enjoyed writing, he had tried writing in Google Docs, Notion, or any note-taking software, just jotting down his thoughts first, regardless of whether he would publish them.
He said no.
His "no" actually reminded me of myself. I've always enjoyed gaining new insights during consultations, and this time I had a particularly strong feeling about it, because I'm someone who really enjoys writing.
I wrote novels when I was a child, especially before exams, so naturally I did poorly on them. Back then, I wrote them not for anyone, and I never thought about showing them to anyone.
Later, even though there were Wretch and Yahoo! Blog, when I wrote anything, whether it was a novel or a poem, I would still save it in my own Word document first. I would save it, review and select it myself, and then post it on the social media platform.
The current creative process has completely reversed the order.
The process seems to have changed somewhat now.
The current logic is similar to this: I first decide which platform to use for a certain activity. For example, if I really want to post on Instagram today, I'll directly apply Instagram's framework to think about the content, and the result is that only the part I want to post is left. The rest has no chance to grow.
My previous process was similar: I would accumulate many drafts and leave them there. It seems that fewer people do this nowadays.
With the emergence of AI, I think many people will directly use AI to generate content on social media platforms, then simply copy and paste it and post it without keeping a copy for themselves, without digesting or reflecting on it, and even lacking the feeling of sifting through a large number of drafts to find the final version. Because people might think, since what's posted is done by AI, it seems perfect enough, so why bother keeping or revising it?
I've reversed the order of the creations.
Looking back, the order in which I used to write things is the reverse of how I write them now.
In the past, I would write down whatever came to mind without worrying about whether it could be published or which platform it was suitable for. I would write it down first, accumulate it, and then go back and decide whether to publish it.
Writing it down happened first. Sending it out came later, and sometimes it wasn't even necessary.
During the few days of suspension, I simply rearranged the order back to normal.
I once considered splitting my creative process into two parts.
However, after the suspension, an even more troublesome problem arose. I still need this job to make a living.
I create content, and I need to monetize it, take on projects, and get paid to survive. So here's the problem: if my creations are constrained by formatting rules just to be published on a platform, won't they be constrained again just to make money?
At that time, my solution was very intuitive. I divided my creative work into two parts: one part was dedicated to monetization, including writing sales articles and creating products; the other part was for myself, to write whatever I wanted, regardless of whether it would sell. I almost did it this way, trying to balance making a living and taking care of myself.
The more I thought about it, the more I felt something was wrong.
The two parts are inherently unequal. The monetization part offers clear returns: money, clients, and visibility. The part for personal enjoyment, on the other hand, offers nothing in the short term; it's just about writing for fun. It's quite obvious which part I'll sacrifice first when I'm busy or tired. Creating for myself gradually becomes something I can do "when I have time," and then I never have the time, so it gets relegated to a corner, the exact opposite of my initial intention to protect it.
This is essentially the same problem as what I discussed earlier. Originally, it was the platform's format that was limiting me; now, it's just changed—"which one can make money" is deciding what I do first. The thing limiting me has changed, but I'm still trapped within it.
Moreover, splitting myself into two parts inherently implies one thing: content intended for monetization is destined to be less free. Otherwise, why would I carve out a separate section for freedom? It's like splitting myself into two people: one responsible for making money and writing what I feel I should write but don't really want to, and another secretly being my true self after work. I don't want to live like that.
Later I thought of it as upstream and downstream.
What really made me understand was the idea of replacing the "two pieces".
Rather than viewing creation and monetization as two parallel lines, I later realized they were more like upstream and downstream.
Free creation is the upstream, the source, a pool. I write for myself first, accumulate, and fill the pool. Monetization is the downstream, it's about taking things out of this pool, picking out what's suitable for exposure and selling, organizing it, and then sending it out.
The difference lies in the order. I first have a pool of things I write for myself, and then I select those that can be monetized. The source has always been free; monetization is just one outlet. Making money doesn't, in turn, determine what I can create.
This is actually the same order I mentioned earlier: write first, accumulate first, then decide whether to publish or sell. I'm just extending it from publishing to making money.
There's nothing wrong with wanting to make money.
After thinking it through, I let myself off the hook.
It's perfectly natural to want to monetize my work. I need to eat and pay rent, and there's nothing to feel guilty about earning money through my creative work. The only thing I really need to worry about is: not letting the desire to "sell" dictate the source of my creations. Selling is the outlet; the source must remain within myself.
So what I want to do now is to take care of the source first. I need to write for myself first, fill the pool first, and then the things that need to be monetized will grow from that pool.
The times I write most smoothly and happily are when I write like this. I don't think about the format, the platform, or whether it will sell; I just write it down. I haven't felt this way in a long time.
