The Explanatory Tax: On Digital Exploration and Ko-fi

Building software, writing technical records, and contributing to open source ecosystems demand long, uninterrupted blocks of deep focus. There is also a second requirement, less visible but more critical. That is the freedom to follow a lead down a rabbit hole without knowing if it yields any return, and without having to justify why it matters.

This project is developed within a rigid constraint. I have a full-time job. Five days a week, from 08.00 to 18.00, my cognitive and social energy is officially allocated. The time that remains in the evenings and on weekends is a finite, critical reserve. It can be spent on engineering and pure exploration, or it can be spent on administrative overhead. It cannot sustain both.

The dominant models of internet sustainability like Patreon subscriptions, Twitch streams, and scheduled newsletters operate on an implicit contract of predictability. You pay a recurring fee and I deliver a predictable cadence of outputs. This contract creates a structural floor of maintenance that converts a personal project into a second job.

I am a digital explorer. My baseline velocity is non-linear. My output does not belong to a single project, a single repository, or even a single domain. In any given week, my attention might shift entirely, driven purely by intellectual friction and curiosity.

  • Spending seven days writing Perl scripts to understand how a 90s text parser handled memory layout, simply to touch the raw metal of how things used to be built.
  • Disappearing for three weeks into academic papers on CRISPR gene-editing layout models, reading not to find a software optimization, but because the system is fascinating and I want to know how it works.
  • Emerging a month later with a working tool, a niche fix for an open source library, or perhaps with absolutely nothing to show for it in my public repositories.

This variance is not a bug. It is the core method. The freedom to build, study, or abandon a direction is what keeps the mental substrate fertile.

A subscription model demands predictable output, which suppresses variance and forces linear execution. If a community funds me on a recurring basis, an invisible debt begins to accumulate. If I spend June reading about molecular biology or playing with obsolete languages instead of pushing updates to the specific tool they discovered me for, I am violating the perceived contract of the subscription. To fix this, I would have to spend energy explaining why the detour matters, crafting updates, calibrating expectations, or staging trend-friendly content behind a paywall.

That explanation is a tax. It is a direct drain on the exact cognitive reserve required to do the work after a ten-hour workday. A commitment to a monthly routine eventually becomes a macigno, a weight that forces you to optimize for the preservation of the subscriber base rather than the raw freedom of the work.

Ko-fi was chosen because its architecture is transactional on the past and the present, not the future.

When someone buys me a coffee, they are validating a record that already exists. They are saying that they found value in what was built, or that they want to support the fact that someone is out there digging. There is no promise of a serialized payload next Tuesday. There is no paywall separating a core codebase from a premium tier.

This model changes the relationship with the community from a service contract to an asynchronous alliance. It gives me the autonomy to disappear into a strange codebase, an old language, or a dense paper for weeks, knowing that the platform maintenance floor is zero. It does not optimize for maximum recurring revenue. It optimizes for zero friction. For an explorer with a hard limit on their time, that is the only metric that matters.


Support my work: Ko-fi.com/lupodevelop