Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here
What’s It All For?
There’s a kind of exhaustion that doesn’t just sit in your bones—it weighs heavily in your soul too.
The kind that lingers after clocking out. After another post. After another attempt to build something—anything—that feels like yours.
I’ve been burning the candle at both ends.
Warehouse job. Part-time job. Training. Writing. Living. Driving. Sleeping. Socializing. Being human.
And the fire still isn’t enough to light the way forward.
Sometimes, I wonder: Is this blog another distraction?
Another scream into the void disguised as “content”?
Another attempt to feel less alone that goes unnoticed?
I’ve published nearly 70 articles since June. Some get read and others not so much. I see the quiet readers—and I appreciate them, but I can’t help but wrestle with a deeper question that haunts my already overactive brain: What am I building towards?
If not towards freedom… then what?
These thoughts are familiar companions and they can bring up interesting things whenever I don’t think much about things. Letters from the Void Newsletter go into such thoughts, just to think and reflect, and the start of potential conversations too.
The Illusion of Progress
I feel like I’m in the Red Queen’s Race—running twice as fast, twice as hard, just to realize I’m still in the same place. Worst still, if the progress I’ve been making (with my blog) was another means of “taking my mind off of things in my life?”
Saving, writing, training, surviving.
My body is breaking down while my spirit tries to rise.
This isn’t laziness. This isn’t a lack of passion.
It’s just that when every direction still feels like someone else’s road, your own steps start to lose meaning.
Fighting for Space That’s Supposed to Be Mine
I have my own living space now.
But I’m still on someone else’s schedule. Someone else’s payroll. At someone else’s mercy.
So I ask myself every day:
- Why do I keep pushing?
- Why write when it feels like I’m invisible?
- Why train when I’m already sore?
- Why try when nothing seems to come of it?
The answer is brutal, but honest:
Because I don’t know how to stop.
Because something inside me still believes there’s more than this.
This Isn’t Just Hustle — It’s Survival
I’m not a success story. Not yet. Or maybe not ever.
But I’m not a failure either. I’m building something out of broken pieces, from sheer boredom, from always asking myself year after year, “Is this it? Is this all life has to offer me?”
So, I decided, after many years of doing nothing, I finally took action. Not to impress anyone, except maybe myself.
But because I have to. Because I’d rather live with calloused hands and a tired heart than live as a ghost in someone else’s story. I’ve lived through this narrative long enough that it was time for a change.
This blog, this life, this path—it’s not neat. It’s not polished.
It’s scattered like the notebooks on my floor, the thoughts in my head, the aches in my body.
But it’s mine.
So What Am I Really Looking For?
Maybe… not success.
Not fame.
Maybe just a little room to breathe.
To be.
To exist in a world that moves fast and rewards flash over fire.
Maybe I’m just trying to prove that I can live without needing someone else’s permission.
Maybe I’m not alone in that.
To Anyone Else Burning Out Just to Stay Afloat
If you feel like this too—this deep, quiet war between exhaustion and hope—I see you.
You’re not broken because you feel too much.
You’re not weak because you’re tired.
You’re not lost because the road is hard.
You’re still here.
Still standing.
Still building.
And that counts for something.
Keep the fire alive. Burn for yourself.
Even if the world doesn’t notice—
Even if it never claps or calls your name—
You’re still worth every damn step forward.
For the Wondering. The Wandering. The Curious. The Weary.
If you’ve ever felt like you’re running twice as hard and still getting nowhere—
If you’ve questioned what you’re building, or why you keep going—
If you’re trying to carve out a life that’s yours in a world that keeps trying to define it for you…
You’re not alone.
This space welcomes you in.
Not to fix you. Not to sell you answers. I don’t have any for myself.
But to stand beside you in the dark while you light your own way.
Read. Reflect. Rage. Rest.
Whatever you need—come as you are.
Leave when you’re ready. Or stay, and build with me, share this with someone who might be in a similar boat, and doing so allows other like us to find this little pocket of the internet.
Did any part of this sit with you?
If you’ve ever felt the same — or even something close — you’re not alone.
I’d love to hear what came up for you, if you feel like sharing. Whether it’s a quiet “me too,” a story of your own, or just a thought you’ve been holding, the comments are open — and so am I.
No pressure, no performance. Just space
If You Are Indeed Curious
You can check out my other articles or my newsletters just to see what else I talk about. Other than that, I’ll see you next time, fellow archivists.
Letters from the Void Newsletter
What Good is “History” If There’s No Future?
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