It's been about a month since the fateful day I found Steemit. The absurdity of my future self wasn't even a twinkle in my eye. I was in transit between Thailand and Malaysia, my butt as numb as my mind, desperately trying to find something to entertain me via my cell phone. While trying to learn about creating a successful and valuable travel blog (it's a lot of work, if you're wondering), I stumbled across Steemit.

A fantastical place, held together by blockchains and chock-full of crypto-geekery, Steemit promised to inspire people to throw themselves into the 'Wild Wild Web' to see what stuck. I began to learn about the founders, the philosophies, and the potential of it all. It was mind-blowing. It was provoking. It was ENGAGING. I wanted in.

I knew nothing of HTML, even less about "crypto" and had never posted anything on the internet, save for the obligatory contributions we all make to our mundane social media mediums. Nonetheless, the idea of being a part of this exciting and well thought out social media experiment made my loins tingle with intrigue. What could trend on this new niche site? What would prove important to the type of people involved? Was the potential here real? Would they ask me to sell my soul?

The insanity crept in slowly, and two days later, I came running out of the shower, dripping and hastily wrapped in a towel. I proclaimed to my girlfriend, Hive account@rhi-marie, in an excited voice: "what if we could use Steemit to raise funds for a charitable micro-financing institution?! It's relevant, would people care?". She thought it was a great idea, and three posts later, I had made a thousand magic-internet-dollars. The insanity was real. It felt like the world was FULL of a potential that had never before exisisted. I set out to the task of figuring out how to get the cash out, and in the process, ended up with a Bitcoin wallet full of bits of rapidly declining value. Insanity had a steep learning curve. I filed it away for a future project when I could maximize the potential, and hopefully, the readership.

Next, the unthinkable happened - my girlfriend started to get involved. My days quickly turned from the normal routine and conversation to a Steemit enriched, crypto-charged, content driven existence. She submitted some photos to the second Steemit Photo Challenge and won second place! She too now had a wallet brimming with magic-money-from-nowhere. I was now solely responsible for interpreting and teaching her the ways of Steemit. The insanity was contagious. Soon, she would become more obsessed and capable than me, which... Isn't all that capable. Would we ever just sit around and talk about our lives again?

We were hooked.

But, as with most things, mediocre success would prove to be a cruel mistress, and my attempts would be fleeting in value. One minute, I thought my $300 dollar post proposing a talent competition was going to lead to a wonderful turn out and the next, I find myself pleading a case for a surfing monkey. The interest is SO low right now, we are literally offering over $100 to ANYONE willing to participate. At this point, "talent" could be defined as: sitting in front of a video camera for one minute. Extra points if you don't blink. This is my life now. The Insanity is desolate.

Not only do I now dedicate hours to making long and intimate posts worth pennies, things in general have gotten a little strange. I've seen a man tie a live bee to a piece of dental floss, in a heart-warming attempt to get his 100+ followers to notice our talent competition. My girlfriend now approaches attractive and flexible women on the beach and requests them to do tricks in front of our eager cell phones (I'm not complaining one bit). Everything is becoming "potential content". Hive account@jamtaylor has me in the bloody jungle, crawling on my hands and knees, taking photos of fungal growths. Apparently, I currently think that "blogging" about what I ate for breakfast is not only IMPORTANT, but enjoyable. The insanity is overwhelming. Hell, the other day, I believe one of my passing comments was turned into a feature post, by one of the most reputable authors on Steemit. Am I flattered? No. Am I losing my mind? I think so. Regardless, all I can think is: "she didn't even see the surfing monkey!". The list goes on and on, the absurdity never stops:

The rabbit hole is deeper than I ever imagined.

How insane am I? I'm not even registering on the list of SUCCESSFUL people and yet, my time and thoughts have been hijacked by some insane anarchist's attempt to overthrow the planet. Is this happening to everyone on Steemit? Are we all in this fishbowl, being watched intensely by a group of internet gurus who are trying to perfect the art of "ENGAGEMENT"? Or is this experiment potentially changing everything? Either way, Can we ever escape?

I don't know, but I can't stop digging out this rabbit hole, and chances are, NEITHER CAN YOU.