The last 28 days have been a wild climb. We hit 192 subscribers—up 78 in under a month—and while that might sound like small potatoes to the algorithm gods, to us? It's fire. A bonafide signal through the noise. Proof that the weirdos, the loners, the midnight scrollers and horror-hungry riff chasers—we're finding each other.
This isn’t just about growth. It's about foundation. Every scrap of content we've made, every thumbnail we've hand-stitched, every late-night freakout over font choices or glitch overlays—it all matters. We're not building a channel. We're building a haunted lighthouse. A broadcast signal for the fringe kids. The ones who want punk and pulp, VHS static and cursed cryptid energy, bone-rattling riffs with lore-laced lyrics.
We’re not chasing the mainstream. We're crafting something that might, one day, drag the mainstream to us. But for now? It’s pure grind. Refreshing metrics like a stockbroker on too much caffeine. Stashing every half-decent drawing, video fragment, and throwaway lyric for future resurrection. Feeding the fire. Keeping the signal alive.
YouTube’s a beast. And we’re wrestling it with bare hands and no leash.
But hey—200’s coming.
And when it hits?
We'll howl at the algorithm like it owes us money.
—Spacetrucker
