I go to the Steemit website every day. I read; I absorb. I write; I blog.
I read articles, not only on Steemit, about stock markets, corrupt government(s), child abduction, conspiracies. I read articles on Steemit; some are informative, some are people just ranting, some are venting, some are simply sharing. I read articles about food recipes, how to do... well, almost anything, articles of hope (for the world and individual), travel, people overcoming every day obstacles and some not-so-everyday-obstacles, blockchain advantages, people finding paths to financial freedom.
Since my 'Steemit-birth' last month, I have learned what cryptocurrency is, how it works and how to turn fiat into Steem and back again. I have learned what a blockchain is, how it is 'mined' and what the advantages are as opposed to legacy systems. I know what the term 'legacy' means < I suppose the term 'antiquated' is yet too premature; 'corrupt' hasn't sufficient proof.> I have learned I want my money in cryptocurrency on the blockchain rather than any fiat held in any legacy institution. Big jump for one month. I have read a lot! < and not only on Steemit.>
I call my experience a 'Steemit-birth' because I feel as an infant with regards to what I now know and what I have yet to learn.
Do I talk to my family and try to get them on board? No. Why, you may ask? They won't. They won't because it is I who asks. I am the 'black sheep' of the family. I am the outsider. I am the (dreaded) dreamer.
In my family, I AM the dreamer. I AM the one who thinks outside the box. I AM the one who does not follow the main stream (media, way of thinking, etc., etc.). I don't follow the beat to a different drummer; I AM that different drummer. Because of these things, I believe, is the very reasons no one in my family takes any advice I have to offer; I have become comfortable with this. I quit offering advice long ago. They are uncomfortable being anywhere outside their “norm.” And, I have become uncomfortable anywhere within it.
Post Script: 'Coo-coo-ka-choo' rang through my head after typing through the end of the title < right before the maniacal laughter echoed from the recesses of my skull>, but didn't want to post anything that seemed like a sad and impotent copy of what the Beatles' did with the walrus. <source of maniacal laughter shuffles off to sulk in a dark corner, murmuring.>