Sincerity Punk Mining: How to Find Real People on the Internet

Sincerity has become punk.

In a world where everyone’s performing for irony points, showing up earnest and unfiltered is the new act of defiance. You can still be stylish, clever, even biting and mean every word. That mix of honesty and edge is lethal in the best way.

Sincerity’s expensive. It costs ego, comfort, and control. The exact currency the internet teaches us to hoard. But if you’re willing to pay that price, you start seeing who’s real and who’s just running a brand.

The truth is, genuine creators are still out there. They just don’t live where the noise is thickest. Finding them takes intent, not algorithms. You have to hunt sideways instead of straight ahead. Short-form honesty thrives in places like micro-essays and small creative corners, where writers still trade craft for connection.

The Field Guide to Sincerity Punk Mining

1. Go deep, not wide.

Pick one or two platforms you can tolerate — Substack, Medium, Tumblr, a quiet Discord, or even an old-school forum. Ignore the rest.
Follow trails of tone, not follower count. When someone sounds alive, stay in their orbit. Comment thoughtfully. Keep showing up.

2. Look in the cracks.

Search hashtags and keywords that feel too specific: #microessay, #weirdlit, #nostalgiawriting, #slowcontent.
The smaller the tag, the more likely it’s attached to an actual human instead of a content farm.
It’s the antidote to what some call “Internet Over-Exposure Syndrome” — when endless scrolling dulls your ability to tell what’s real.

3. Be the first to reach out.

Leave long, real comments. Send an email that isn’t a pitch.
Most sincere creators are starving for proof that someone truly read their work. One paragraph of genuine response can start a real friendship.

4. Check Substack threads and small newsletters.

That’s where the sincerity punks migrated. Writers tired of algorithms choosing what matters. The conversations move more slowly, but the signal is sharper.

5. Use your own blog as a magnet.

Every time you post, link to a few others whose work moved you.
Don’t wait to be noticed; shine the light first. Over time, you’ll build an ecosystem of mutual recognition instead of competition.

It’s slower than scrolling, but it works.
You’ll find them one by one, like signal lights blinking through the fog. The ones who still write like it matters.

Sincerity Punk Mining. It sounds like a lost subgenre of creative anthropology: just you, headlamp glowing, digging through digital rubble for veins of human gold. The work is quiet, patient, and deliberate. But that’s the whole point.

Because when one person chooses to care out loud, it gives others permission. And that’s how real movements start — the quiet rebellion of people still daring to care. Writer Valerie Garcia puts it beautifully: sincerity and simplicity aren’t weaknesses online. They’re superpowers that change how people connect.

“Sincerity’s expensive. It costs ego, comfort, and control. All the things the internet trains people to cling to.”

Author’s Note:
“Sincerity Punk Mining” started as a joke between friends and became a manifesto for how I want to live online: slower, truer, less filtered. Tiaras In The Wild exists for the same reason: to find the real humans under the algorithms, the makers and dreamers who still believe beauty and meaning matter. If that’s you, welcome to the Quiet Rebellion. We’re glad you’re here!