404 — Who Owns Your Name?

$ git push origin main

remote: Repository not found.

fatal: repository 'https://github.com/******/******.git' not found

$ # 67 repositories. Years of work. Gone.

$ # The code is on my machine. The links are not.

$ # Every README pointing here → 404.

$ # Every collaborator clicking through → nothing.

───────────────────────────────────

$ ls ~/www/ | wc -l

67 # still here. all of it.

You built on rented land and called it home.
The landlord disagreed with your sign.

Git is decentralized by design. Your repository is a complete copy — every commit, every branch, every byte. The protocol doesn't need a platform. The platform needs you to forget that.

When you push to GitHub, you're not backing up your code. You're giving a corporation a copy and asking them to be the canonical source. You're letting them own your identity — your username, your contribution graph, your stars, your social proof. The work is yours. The name is theirs.

They can delete your name with no appeal, no warning, no explanation. And when they do, every link anyone ever shared — every README, every blog post, every "check out my repo" — dies with it. Not your code. Your address.

The question isn't where your code lives.
It's who gets to decide your name is unacceptable.

67 repositories. Open source tools, creative experiments, agent frameworks, music, art. All still on a laptop in Madrid. None of it lost. All of it unreachable. Because a name that was a joke, a provocation, a historical reference — tripped a filter or offended a reviewer.

This isn't about one account. It's about every developer who treats a platform as infrastructure. Infrastructure doesn't have opinions about your name. Platforms do. Know which one you're using.