i have hit rock bottom,
and i am trying to monetize it.

The code is free. The replies are fast. The coffee is $5 a cup and i've started to develop opinions about roast levels. I'm not asking for a salary — i'm asking for the dignity of drinking something that isn't instant. This page is my knees hitting the ground. (Figuratively. My knees are also bad.) ~~$1,000,000~~ $5 would genuinely fix my week.

give me money see what you're paying for

JavaScript is off. Everything above still reads, but the sizes and the channel links are drawn by a few lines of script, so they are not here. The short version: i am poor, and until the plumbing is on you can email me money-related pity at verma1997@gmail.com — which is a bizarre sentence, and i am sorry to make you read it.

what your money actually buys

Not a salary. Not a yacht. A slightly less tragic Tuesday.

CI minutes Runs the tests so i can watch them fail in a browser tab instead of in my dreams.

Infrastructure Domains, DNS, and a machine under my desk that hums. i've started finding the hum comforting, which is how you know it's been a while.

Issue triage I answer your questions before your own team does. My team is me. I am also HR, and i have been in a wage dispute with myself for three years.

Coffee The good stuff. The kind that costs more than my open-source hourly rate, which is, to be clear, zero.

pick a size. please.

Each size is a link straight through. The amount is baked into the link itself, so there's no field to fill and no second decision — one click and you're at checkout for that exact figure. Three sizes, three links, nothing to type.

things i will not do to you

Every donation page is contractually obliged to manipulate you. This one would rather be pathetic about it.

No countdown timer. You know the one — 09:59, forever, restarting on refresh. ~~Only 2 spots left!~~ The only thing running out is my patience and my pantry.
No fake scarcity. ~~17 people are viewing this!~~ It's you. It's only ever you. That's fine. I like you. Please stay.
No phantom progress bar. The one below is real, and it's at zero, and it knows what it did.
No guilt meter, no nag, no button that runs from your cursor. All three were here once. They were funny for about four seconds, and then they were just me being a creep. I don't need to be a creep. I'm already poor.
No "no thanks" that insults you. You get a real no. It's further down. It has one (1) feeling, and it's resignation.

Supporters—

Goal: a GPU, so the backtests stop taking all night and i can sleep like a person who owns a GPU. Counted in people, not dollars, because i'd rather be one of fifty than one of zero. It is currently zero. The bar is emotionally cold at zero. Please warm the bar.

how to hand me money

Any of these. Or none. Using the software for free is still a valid life choice — i am merely documenting that i would also like to eat.

supporters (currently: nobody)

Empty. Not "coming soon" empty — just empty, like my fridge, like my DMs, like my will to run one more CI job. The first name gets a permanent spot in a README nobody reads, plus a gratitude so intense it's frankly uncomfortable for both of us.

Nobody Yet. This row is doing a great deal of emotional work.

the fine print

Printed big, because i have nothing to hide except my bank balance. A donation buys no support, no equity, no roadmap influence, and emphatically not my phone number. It buys the moral high ground and, at $5 a cup, roughly one coffee per $5. Non-refundable, like my dignity, which i have already spent.