Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here
I’ve been writing honestly on WordPress for three months now, with no strategy except to show up. Since the end of June 2025, I’ve published over 70 posts — some sparked by daily prompts, others just raw reflections written on tired days, quiet days, angry days, and confusing days.
I’ve made a downloadable The Stratagem’s Manifesto and started a newsletter, Letters from the Void Newsletter. I’ve noticed return readers, quiet likes, and even one person brave enough to leave a comment.
And yet, the question lingers in the back of my mind:
Can sharing honestly be enough?
Three Months of Honest Blogging
I didn’t come here with a strategy. At least, not one that looks like the question, “Where do you see yourself in 5 years?” I still can’t answer that for myself outside of this blog.
I just had an idea: share whatever comes to mind, and see what happens.
Other than that, I didn’t bring credentials, a network, or a plan to outsmart the algorithm. I didn’t want to pretend to be someone I couldn’t believe in just to be seen quicker.
I came with words — messy, sincere, uncertain, sometimes tired, sometimes angry.
I Didn’t Come Here With a Strategy
I started writing here because my first attempt at blogging failed quietly. But this time, I had too much to say and no one to say it to.
I have people and family I can talk to, but not about the topics I share here — not without pushback, second-guessing, or leaving those conversations doubting myself even more.
So I chose to write.
To have a record.
To prove, if only to myself, that I was here.
Fools Can Only Hope
Some days I feel like a fool — not the clever archetype, just someone who thinks maybe all this matters more than it looks like it does from the outside.
Maybe if I tell the truth long enough, someone else might feel less alone in their own head.
I call myself an autodidact — I prefer learning things on my own, at my own pace. I don’t have a degree that opens doors, or mentors clearing paths for me.
What I do have is curiosity. And a stubborn hope that it’s still possible to build something slowly, honestly, and from the ground up.
And it’s hard.
Because some days, the work feels invisible — like shouting into a void, shining the small light I have at the edge of nothingness.
Which is something I’ve covered in this earlier post called, Do You Ever Feel Like You’re Writing Into A Void?
Other days, I notice a familiar like, a new newsletter sign-up, or a silent reader who keeps coming back.
And that means something.
That means I’m not writing into the void anymore.
I’m writing from the space in-between.
And someone’s out there, hearing it.
Can Honesty Be Enough?
So… can honesty be enough?
I don’t know.
But I’m still here.
I’m still writing.
And maybe that’s the answer for now.
A Note to Fellow Archivists
If any part of this piece resonates, I’d love to invite you to pause for a moment and reflect on your own journey.
What part of your story feels messy, uncertain, or unfinished right now? Where are you weary, wondering, or wandering? What small reminder do you need today that you don’t have to fit neatly into anyone’s expectations?
You don’t have to share your reflections out loud — sometimes it’s enough just to notice them for yourself. But if you’d like, you’re always welcome to write them in the comments, or even send them my way privately.
This space is here so that we can remind ourselves and each other: you’re not alone in this.
If you’ve found something meaningful here, liking, sharing, or subscribing helps fellow wanderers find this little pocket of the internet too. And if you subscribe, you’ll also receive Letters from the Void, my newsletter where I share more quiet reflections, behind-the-scenes projects, and updates before they appear anywhere else.
However you choose to engage — silently reading, reflecting privately, or joining in the conversation — you’re part of this archive. Thank you for being here.
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