Why I’m leaving social media


I’ve always believed in creating a safe space where everyone and anyone
is welcome to escape and read
Be encouraged or cry and learn…
An ad free space (until this year) at Regardingsamuel.com
I always thought about our library trips growing up and wanted to re create that feeling.

After several weeks of considering my options and goals with several friends and reading several articles from other artist…

I’m announcing my departure from all platforms of social media starting in September.
This will include but not be limited to
Fb, instagram and twitter.

While I’ve utilized free platforms (as far back as tumblr)

It’s just not the same tool box anymore…

I find myself in this rat race to create and post everyday, just to keep up and stay relevant along with marketing myself, only to still get lost in an algorithm and many of my posts don’t even get seen by my oldest regular followers anymore.

It used to be a library of sorts and now it’s just a sand storm of too much information…

I’m actually late to the exodus…
Many, many other artist, poets and writers have quietly gathered their things and left these platforms sometime ago.

You can’t use the algorithm to fight the algorithm…you will always lose…

We are the product in social media…not our art..


I will still be on patreon
Making videos and photos
And notes
You can subscribe for the price of a cup of coffee …and there will be the occasional free content there as well.

And as always I will still be at home
At Regardingsamuel.com
Endeavoring to build a safe space
And hopefully in the near future
An ad free space again.

As always,
Be kind.
And make your art
Make good art
What else is there?


Ethan Samuel Bethune


The world is hurricane
And brass
This burning library

This emergency room
This funeral parlor
With death angels
And poets and priest

This moment ….waiting for the next moment to take the torch and finish the race…

It has been the poets
Who meet you –
With the morning
With your coffee and tea…
While the news barrages you
Social media harasses you
Your cousins don’t understand you…
Wall Street
And the business falls around the accident in the street,
You tuck words in your pockets
You read them and you feel that you have a new friend
With the ambulance lights around the accident, Where life became too heavy and too real…
These poets…
Always present,
in the corner of every emergency room
Every grocery store,
Handing out prescriptions and recipes for whatever season of life you’re in…
It has been the poets
Who meet you in the morning…
Words in an abstract line…
Mined from this thing called life…
But always with you…
With empathy and understanding…

“This is one moment, / But know that another / Shall pierce you with a sudden painful joy.”
T.S. Eliot




I know we all don’t have good days

like, some people just have more bad days than good

while some just have some random bad days

and i’m not talking about rainy days

because I really like rain


I broke down and cried today

i thought it wouldn’t hurt

I thought…I thought that because i had been so mad at my dad it wouldn’t hurt

his being gone

I thought that because I had accepted who he was it wouldn’t hurt

That because i had talked to him it wouldn’t hurt

But then I realized….

That’s what makes it hurt

Because I still love him….He’s my dad

I wanted him to be here and he’s gone

I wanted to be the man that sat there with him regardless of the fact that he was the most manipulative selfish person I know….I wanted top be able to sit there with him …not because he needed something from me…but because I needed him…to just be there.

We used to run a paper route at night – over two hundred miles total of driving . one night there was storms everywhere with hail and tornadoes popping up at random…he finally called in halfway through the night and gave up…turns out no one else had even attempted to drive their routes that night. that’s just how hard headed he was.

I wanted him to be here

i wanted him to be there when I get married ( and that’s not even on my list of things to do )

I wanted to be able talk about nothing again

I wanted to be able to give him a hug and feel the rough beard on his chin and smell that peppermint smell that always seemed to be around him.

I missed him

and today i stared for half an hour at nothing because i realized I’m 23

when my dad dies…i’m 23….

that’s when it happens


23 years is what i get

whatever he was, whatever he believed, is done.

it’s that fast

he’s gone

what am I

I am my own

I don’t have to be what he was

I don’t have to …I choose who I become.

18 years is what he got to mold me

5 years is what it took for me to sort it out

23 years is what I got

the rest is on me


Today I cried

because 23 years is all I got

and I felt really bad that I was so mad for those 5 years