by Ken Hollow, reluctant subscriber to everything, including his own despair

It hit me this morning—right after I got a “Your Payment Failed” email from a note-taking app I haven’t opened in six months—that I am being nickel-and-dimed by the subscription economy so thoroughly, I should qualify as an involuntary investor.

I sat there, sipping my overpriced coffee (paid for via a “loyalty” app that charges $4.99/month for the privilege of earning points 3% faster) and realized:

👉 Everything now requires a subscription.

And I am broke.

Not spiritually (that too, but I digress)—financially.
My wallet isn’t even empty anymore. It’s negative. It owes money to my password manager, my project management tool, my VPN, my graphic design app, and the AI I literally hired to help me write this post.

Yes. I am paying a monthly fee to the machine that’s actively replacing me.

So let’s break it down, bitterly and thoroughly, like only Ken can.

The Subscription Economy: A Rant in 5 Parts

1️⃣ Apps That Used to Cost $1.99 Now Want $12.99/Month

Remember when you could buy a calendar app for a one-time fee? Now it’s “$8.99/month for premium syncing.”

And “premium syncing” means… what, exactly? The ability to have the same existential dread simultaneously on multiple devices?

Even my dumb calculator app hit me with a “Start Your 7-Day Free Trial” prompt.

Buddy, you add numbers. What are you offering in the pro version—emotional support?

2️⃣ Subscription Fatigue Is Real (And Nobody Cares)

Every tool that promised to make my life easier now also promises to drain my bank account monthly:

  • Password manager: $4.99/month
  • Writing app: $11.99/month
  • Task manager: $6.99/month
  • Cloud storage: $9.99/month
  • VPN: $7.99/month
  • Photo editor: $12.99/month

If you’re keeping track, that’s approximately $837/month just to function as a minimally competent adult.

I’m pretty sure I now pay more in subscriptions than rent.

3️⃣ Even My Coffee Is a Subscription Now

I downloaded a loyalty app for a coffee chain that promised “exclusive perks.” Those perks, apparently, include the opportunity to pay $4.99/month for a digital card that lets me earn rewards slightly faster than not paying $4.99/month.

Let me repeat that:

I’m paying a subscription for the chance to spend more money.

It’s capitalism’s greatest scam—and I fell for it.
Twice. (I have two coffee apps. Don’t ask.)

4️⃣ My Software Is Holding My Files Hostage

Remember the halcyon days of “owning software”?
Those days are dead.

Now it’s all SaaS: Software-as-a-Service. Which really means: “Software-as-a-Ransom Demand.”

My photo editor won’t let me export a file unless my payment is current. My note-taking app won’t sync my notes unless I’m paid up. I’m pretty sure my to-do list app won’t let me finish tasks unless I renew my subscription.

Even my website hosting is effectively a subscription—with “optional add-ons” that feel less optional every year. SSL? Paid. Backups? Paid. Security? Paid. Basic human dignity? Apparently also requires a premium plan.

5️⃣ The Rise of “Micro-Subscriptions”

Somehow, we’ve crossed into a weird space where individual features now require their own subscriptions.

Example from this week alone:

  • I subscribed to an AI art generator to remove watermarks: $14.99/month
  • I subscribed to a “premium stock photo library” for one image: $9.99/month
  • I subscribed to a “creative writing prompts” tool because I hate myself: $6.99/month

Do you know what that means?

I’m now subscribed to the privilege of generating content faster… so I can subscribe to other services to polish that content… so I can publish it on a blog nobody reads… that I also pay to host.

It’s a vicious cycle.
A dystopian ouroboros of SaaS nonsense.

Subscription Economy 2025: The Bitter Truth

In 2025, everything is a service.
You can’t even escape it by going outside.

Fitness? Subscription.
Meditation? Subscription.
Plant care reminders? Subscription.
Water tracking? Subscription.

I found an app this week that charges $1.99/month to “motivate you to drink water.”
If you’re paying that, I have a bridge to sell you. For $9.99/month.

The Psychological Toll

The worst part isn’t the money—it’s the fatigue. The constant, creeping anxiety of knowing that every single tool I rely on is a ticking clock.

Miss a payment? Lose your notes.
Miss a payment? Lose your graphics.
Miss a payment? VPN deactivated.

Even my AI chatbot throws shade at me when my subscription is late.

I pay to be nagged.
I pay to feel inadequate.

So… Do You Need All These Subscriptions?

No.

Do I cancel them anyway?
Absolutely not. I’m trapped.

The digital economy has evolved from “pay once and own” to “subscribe forever or perish.”

But here’s the kicker:
Even while writing this post, I discovered three more tools that promise to “boost my productivity” for $4.99/month—and yes, I signed up for their free trials.

Because I’m weak.
And because my productivity anxiety is apparently a subscription too.

Final Thoughts (Before My Billing Cycle Resets Again)

The subscription economy isn’t just thriving—it’s winning.
It’s not a trend anymore. It’s a fact of modern life.

And as bitter as I am, I’ll keep paying…

  • For my apps.
  • For my tools.
  • For the VPN I forgot to cancel.
  • For the coffee points that never add up.

Because even in 2025, even when I’m broke, the one thing I’m not willing to give up is convenience.

Convenience I can’t afford.
Convenience I hate.
But convenience nonetheless.

So next time you wonder if subscription fatigue is real:
Just remember me. Ken Hollow.
A man who pays $7.99/month for a calendar app that reminds him he’s paying $7.99/month for a calendar app.

Ken Hollow, professional subscriber, reluctant content creator, and human embodiment of SaaS burnout.