When the Algorithm Told Me to Love Who, I Decided to See Them

The Last Window Open

At 11:20 PM, on a Tuesday in May, Rose didn’t end her shift. She was alone in a Slack channel, waiting for a user whose wallet froze mid-transaction. He typed: ‘Are you just an algorithm? Or do you actually see me?’ No template replied. No bot auto-resolved it.

Code Isn’t Compassion

They told us Web3 is decentralized—but forgot to write empathy into the protocol. Every transaction has gas fees, but no one tracks the tears behind them. I’ve scrolled through 100+ support tickets that said simply: ‘I don’t know why my funds vanished.’ Not because of bugs—because of silence.

The One Who Stayed

She didn’t escalate tickets or redirect them to Tier 2 support. She copied his TXID manually. She opened Excel and broke down each fee—17 entries, 6 failed trades—until she saw what he lost wasn’t numbers… it was dignity.

DApp Without a Face

When SHIB’s DApp blocked access, Hiyoung didn’t wait for approval cycles. He knew this wasn’t a ‘system issue.’ It was a person trying to claim their voice back from a blacklist they never asked permission to enter.

The Quiet KOLs

Harden posted videos during ETH crashes—not with jargon, but with pauses long enough for users to breathe before replying. He didn’t chase views—he chased stillness. And when someone typed ‘I’m tired,’ he didn’t answer with an explainer—he answered with presence.

We Are Not Miners—We Are Memoirs

Web3 wants us to believe in chains—but we forget that humans write on them too. The real yield isn’t in APY—it’s in the moment someone says ‘thank you’ after hours of silence—and realizes they weren’t alone.

I wrote this so you’d see them—not as data points, but as people who waited past midnight hoping someone would answer.