Thepresence

Miloslav Voloskov, a 22-year-old developer from Saint-Petersburg, Russia, was inspired by the iOS app Launchpad, which allowed people to create music by tapping tiles randomly—and the results sounded good regardless of talent. He wondered: could the same principle work for website design? He'd spent years collecting beautiful modern design examples from Awwwards, admiring the experimental typography, 3D glitches, and modernist aesthetic used by freelancers. What if he could package these design blocks so anyone could build a striking website without talent, just by arranging pre-designed components?

Miloslav had already built two successful products—The Code of Conduct Generator (Product of the Day) and Sleeep (Golden Kitty Award nominee). He saw the market gap: competitors like Designmodo had succeeded with this model, but they focused on conventional design trends for the general public. Miloslav wanted to target a niche: design geeks and freelancers who craved experimental, unconventional aesthetics.

Initially called "Project Orca," Thepresence was conceived as a massive platform with a blog module, e-shop functionality, and a content hub. Miloslav submitted the idea to Y Combinator in 2018 but was rejected. Rather than giving up, he took lessons from *The Lean Startup*: strip the idea down and actually ship it. He reduced Thepresence to a static website builder with blocks, then further reduced it to just HTML exporting.

He designed everything himself initially, taking CalArts design courses and studying Awwwards. But he realized copying designs wasn't enough—he needed to create universal, modular blocks that could combine in any order. So he hired a friend, a talented graphic designer who also loved modernist design. With his experience as a team leader, Miloslav felt confident managing the collaboration.

Then everything stopped.

Thepresence never launched. During development, Miloslav's depression worsened, compounded by ineffective neuroleptic medication. He described the experience: "You can see the different letters of code on your screen but you can't read it, you just don't understand what's going on in the code you just wrote." Every design block from his collaborator triggered waves of irrational shame and guilt. He had nightmares about tens of thousands of downvotes. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't code. He abandoned the project and quit his job.

After two years of sunk time (but less than $1,000 in expenses, since he never marketed), Miloslav decided to write about the failure rather than continue. Publishing his story brought relief. He now continues therapy and has no regrets, viewing the experience as valuable for himself and others battling mental illness while building startups.