It starts with a simple assumption: "so I think it's like google drive?" You are just clicking through the Walrus interface, expecting a basic place to store files without any real friction. You treat it as a straightforward warehouse for your digital assets, assuming the experience will be a typical cloud interaction. At this point, you are simply looking for a practical storage solution, oblivious to the fact that the internal mechanics of Walrus are about to completely reformat your vision of how the web should function.
The shift happens suddenly when you see the performance metrics and you mutter: "wait… it has superpowers?" You witness data being shredded, distributed, and reconstructed by the Walrus protocol with a speed that shouldn't be possible for something decentralized. It is a moment of pure shock as you realize this is a massive leap forward in efficiency. You aren't just looking at a storage locker anymore; you are looking at a high-velocity engine that makes traditional cloud systems look like ancient history.
Soon, that shock turns into a total conviction: "oh, it's the foundation everything else should be built on." You look at the current state of apps and realize how hollow they are without a truly permanent data layer like Walrus. Every project you see now feels like a temporary fix until it is anchored to this new bedrock. The urgency kicks in because you finally found the missing piece that allows for a digital world that actually lasts.
By the end, you are in the middle of the living room explaining data layer architecture to your mom with zero chill. You are trying to make her understand why a Walrus "blob" is more than just a piece of data and why a world with a permanent memory matters. The technical walls have crumbled and you are just left with raw excitement. You have moved past just using a tool; you have become a person possessed by a vision, obsessed with making sure everyone understands that the rules of the internet have been rewritten.
