Notes - 2026 / Part 1 I have always been fascinated by ideas, systems, identities and the possibility that something fictional can slowly become real. I grew up in Latvia during a strange transition period. I witnessed the collapse of one system and the rise of another. Soviet mentality, religion, capitalism, poverty, criminal culture, freedom, Western influence - everything existed at the same time. People constantly changed identities in order to survive and adapt. Maybe because of that, I never learned to fully belong to only one world. I have always liked being “in between”. In my youth there was a huge subculture boom. Goths, industrials, hip-hop heads, punks, metalheads. Most people chose one identity and defended it almost like a religion. I did the opposite. I liked dressing like a hip-hop artist and going to industrial parties. Then dressing like an industrial noise musician and going to hip-hop events. I made music in many different styles and often intentionally played against the audience expectations. I never wanted to become one thing forever. I liked trying identities on like temporary realities. At one point I became involved in noise and industrial music. I was not interested in traditional musicianship. I liked raw sound, distortion, white noise, anti-music. Later rhythm slowly entered the noise. Then breakcore. Then anarcho hip-hop. Looking back, I think I was never truly interested in sound itself. I was interested in concepts, worlds and perspectives. The same thing later happened with startups. Ever since childhood I loved business ideas. I constantly imagined companies, products and future inventions. I never worked traditional jobs. I always built projects, startups or client work. But over time I noticed something strange. When brainstorming startup ideas, my mind naturally generated absurd concepts. Not because I wanted to make jokes. Because my brain automatically filters ideas through abstraction, absurdity and conceptual thinking. Most startup founders immediately remove these ideas because they are impractical. I became fascinated by them. Some ideas were economically terrible, but conceptually beautiful. I realized that many of these projects deserved to exist even if they would never become successful businesses. That realization eventually became Absurd.website. Absurd.website exists because some ideas can only survive if they are treated as art instead of practical business. Before Absurd.website I had another idea: creating a book with thousands of strange business ideas. But eventually I realized something important: A landing page is stronger than a sentence in a book. Even a tiny MVP creates a different type of reality. I have always been an MVP person. Long before “ship fast” became startup culture language, I already worked that way. I never cared much about perfection. I wanted to express the idea as quickly as possible and see it exist in the real world. That mentality heavily shaped Absurd.website. Many projects are intentionally imperfect because the concept itself matters more than polish. The story matters more than execution. I remember being shocked when I first learned that film directors are considered more important than screenwriters. To me the story always felt like the core. The visual layer was only the method of delivery. Even today I still think concepts are more important than execution. My mind constantly moves between worlds that normally reject each other. One of my brothers is strongly capitalist and business-oriented. Another is deeply anti-capitalist and anarchistic. I somehow absorbed both realities at the same time. During the day I built startups and thought about products, systems and money. At night I performed anarchistic hip-hop and noise music criticizing capitalism and consumerism. I never felt this contradiction needed to be resolved. I liked living inside the tension. That same tension exists inside Absurd.website. I do not see the projects as protests or ideological statements. I see them as conceptual possibilities. I do not create projects because I want to convince people to believe something. I create them because I want to explore what happens when an idea becomes temporarily real. I can create a project that supports weapon culture. Then another that argues for peace. I am not trying to become these ideologies. I am exploring perspectives. I think I have always been more interested in understanding systems than belonging to them. The same applies to religion. I grew up with strong Christian influence from my grandparents. I believed in God, but I never liked the existence of intermediaries. What fascinated me more was how humans create belief systems large enough to reshape reality itself. Religions create architecture, rituals, fashion, books, laws, symbols and identities. Entire civilizations emerge from shared ideas. That fascinates me deeply. In some strange way, I think I am doing something similar with Absurd.website. Not creating a religion - but creating a parallel conceptual system that slowly accumulates reality through repetition, structure and participation. I have always loved science fiction ideas, but strangely I rarely enjoyed science fiction movies. The stories themselves often felt boring to me. What fascinated me was the possibility space - future inventions, strange systems, new ways humans could live. That is also how I approach projects. I am interested in opening conceptual territory. Sometimes the projects are useful. Sometimes completely unnecessary. Sometimes impossible. Sometimes absurd. But all of them ask the same question: “What if this existed?” I think that is the core of my work. Not parody. Not protest. Not traditional business. Exploration. I like discovering conceptual territories the same way exploration games slowly reveal hidden parts of a map. Absurd.website is my way of exploring those hidden territories through startups, products, systems, marketplaces, games and internet businesses. Sometimes I wonder if other people can fully see what I see inside these projects. I had the same feeling years ago while making noise music. Most people heard meaningless noise. But occasionally someone understood the frequency behind it. That feeling still exists. Thousands of positive comments about practical startup work never affected me the same way as a single message from someone who truly understood Absurd.website. That feeling is very rare. And maybe that is why I continue.