Reaching me isn’t an act of digital archaeology. There’s no form to decode, no chatbot guarding the gate, and definitely no “my team will review your request.” It’s just me. If you want to get in touch, use a channel that aligns with how much noise you can tolerate — and how much I can.

Let’s go through them.


Email

Email is my natural habitat.
Not because it’s fashionable, but because it’s the one place that still resembles asynchronous communication rather than a dopamine casino.

johan@agile-is-a-state-of-mind.com

I generally respond quickly, unless I’m away from a keyboard.
I don’t read this address on mobile — deliberately.
There’s something healthy about allowing messages to wait until the brain catches up.


Signal

If messengers were neighborhoods, Signal is the one with clean streets, honest neighbors, and no cameras watching the sidewalks.

It’s secure, open‑source, and it behaves like a tool rather than a marketplace.
I always have it with me.

Just search for jbouduin.666.


LinkedIn

A professional network, in theory.
In practice… a curious museum of self‑promotion, accidental comedy, and corporate cosplay.

https://www.linkedin.com/in/jbouduin/

My profile exists. It contains a truthful summary of my background.
But the platform itself feels like standing in a room where everyone talks and almost nobody listens — a place where “I finished an online course” is presented with the energy of a Nobel declaration, and where likes often seem to be handed out by muscle memory.

So yes, you can message me there.
Just understand that LinkedIn is where conversations go to age, not to happen.


Xing

Xing is like LinkedIn’s quieter cousin at a family gathering: still there, still polite, still asking why people don’t visit more often.

https://www.xing.com/profile/Johan_Bouduin/

I keep the account because some circles still use it.
But don’t expect urgency — Xing is one of those places I visit only when I remember it exists.


Telegram

Telegram is complicated.
Let’s say I installed it back when a customer insisted, and I’ve kept it around like an old spare charger from a brand you don’t trust: occasionally helpful, never comforting.

You’ll find me under @zuo_piezi

Your message won’t vanish. My phone will show me that it arrived, and sooner or later I’ll pull the cork. But like a bottle washed ashore, it waits until the moment is right.


X (formerly Twitter)

As for X — that chapter is closed.
I used to have an account; then the platform changed hands, spirit, and purpose, and I decided I didn’t need that in my life. I deleted it, closed the door, and walked away.


What I’ll Respond To

Anything that has intention behind it.

If you write because you actually want to discuss working together, hiring me, or exploring something meaningful — great; and if you need a compass for what “meaningful” looks like, the Services page is the closest thing you’ll get.

I’m not hard to reach when the conversation is grounded in something real.


What I Might Not Respond To

The digital world is a big place. Not all of it requires my participation.

If your message feels like a generic broadcast — “check out my project,” “I made something you’ll love,” “I’m contacting thought leaders” (please no) — I’m likely to let it pass through the net.

Same for vague, mysterious, or riddle‑like messages.
If the purpose of your outreach is unclear, it will remain unclear.

And if you comment on something I’ve shared on LinkedIn or Xing: that’s fine, but I don’t treat social platforms as inboxes.


What I Won’t Respond To

Some boundaries are simple.

I don’t take guest posts.
I don’t promote infographics, startups, or digital potions.
I don’t add links because someone I’ve never met believes they’re “relevant to my audience.”
And I definitely don’t engage in the strange ritual where people write:
“Can I ask you a question?”
You already did.

Also, if your approach involves bumping, nudging, or passive‑aggressively reminding me of your previous message… the chance of a reply drops to absolute zero.

Communication is not a persistence contest.


If you’ve made it this far and still feel like writing, the odds are high your message is the kind I’ll actually enjoy reading.