The Stratagem’s Archive

Category: Intentional living

  • An Archival Look of Chaotic Life Strong: 280+ Weeks of Experimenting, Adapting, and Improvised Warm-Up Flow

    Before Continuing

    In my entirety of writing about my Chaotic Life Strong personal training philosophy and regimen, especially in my More Than Muscle Articles, I want to make sure that I keep some truths at the forefront of this video demonstration before we continue:

    1. I am not a certified personal trainer; I don’t have credentials, a clientele, nor a degree in kinesiology, nutrition, or sports science.
    2. What is shown here has been roughly the culmination of 280+ weeks of trial and error and learning from multiple sources to have created my own hybrid process.
    3. How I train is rarely, if at all, documented; unless I’m performing any new exercises and need a visual cue to keep myself accountable. Else, those documented videos aren’t always kept for long.
    4. Everything shown is personal; it works for me, it works with my constraints: my energy, mood, and if I’m up to training the day of. 

    Nothing here is prescriptive, it’s not comprehensive, but if something catches your eye, you want to give it a try, or you don’t want to—it is fine either way.

    The work exists regardless. 

    I just wanted to share my process, why I chose to develop it the way it became now, and not let my hard won insights exist only in my head.

    How I Warm Up

    How I Train in My Little Studio Set Up

    Why I Do This Warm-Up

    My warm-up is diagnostic, not just preparatory. It ensures:

    • My body is ready for multi-planar movement and weighted training.

    • I’m not feeling tension, soreness, or discomfort in sensitive areas.

    • I protect areas prone to injury: shoulders, knees, lower back.

    Common Warm-Up Movements I Use

    • Cat-Cow, Upward & Downward Dog

    • Cossack Squats & Middle Split Progressions

    • Body Twists, Spinal Rotations, Arm Circles

    • Foam Rolling & Mobility Flows, Band Work

    • Animal Flows: Monkey, Crab, Tiger Walks

    These movements are staples for me. I modify or skip exercises depending on my energy, mood, and any lingering aches.

    Especially, in areas where I’ve been injured:

    • Shoulder.
    • Knees.
    • Lower back. 

    These are sensitive areas for me due to being inattentive, from compounding overuse injuries at my jobs, and persistent bad habits at home. 

    I took advice from my dad and previous bosses seriously: engage your core to prevent overcompensation.

    Applying this consistently has reduced chronic pain and made me more aware of how my body moves.

    This warm-up reflects how I train overall: adaptable, responsive, and built around listening rather than forcing.

    What This Is—and Isn’t

    This is my main example of what kind of fitness I train and how it has helped me prepare for longevity instead of chasing goals I don’t personally care for. 

    I’m not making this into a part of many videos; I’m not gatekeeping my training, I’m not hiding “my secrets” behind a paywall, I’m merely sharing something I’ve developed over 5 years because I’ve found something that works for me and my imperfect conditions.

    Just like my Chaotic Life Strong Exercise Flows PDFs:, you can try out what I’ve shared, take what you find useful, adapt it to your situation, or ignore this entirely. 

    How you choose to fitness is up to you, but I’d rather chase being able to bear hug and lift people in my 80’s than live in a broken body at 30.

    Explore The Archives

    Gifts From The Archives

    If you haven’t checked them out already, below are my PDF manifestos:

  • Fighting on Your Own Terms: Debt, Defiance, and Building a Life That’s Mine

    Three months ago, I was in significant amounts of debt, wandering through jobs I didn’t like belong in, and trying to resist life’s pre-existing scripts. Today, I’m down by thousands and building a foundation for the life I actually want. Here’s the updates so far.

    Ainsi Bas Ma Vie: That’s How My Life Goes

    Three months ago, I wrote about the mountain of debt I accumulated before and after I started living on my own — over a huge deal worth of debt— and how it threatened to define my life before I even truly had a chance to shape it.

    Since then, I’ve chipped away at it, one payment, one decision, one stubborn move at a time. Today, the number is still daunting.

    It’s not gone. It’s still heavy. But it’s shrinking, and with every dollar, I reclaim a little more agency over my life.

    I’m terrified of debt because of how much it stops me from doing and experiencing things I want to do and try out.

    I never liked how all of my attention has to go to debt, it’s super draining, but at least I can see the near end of the pothole filled road I drove onto myself because of the choices I made over time. Though I’m slowly getting closer to smoother pavement. Just a little closer now.

    Choosing a Path That Feels Like Me

    Speaking of choices, growing up, I was told what my life “should” look like. Work in hotels — the backbone of our local economy. Join the family’s construction business. Learn Japanese. Take the safe route. Follow the script.

    I tried none of it. The roles didn’t fit me. I didn’t like crowds, didn’t thrive in certain structures, didn’t want my last name to carry me into someone else’s office. I wanted to forge my own path, even if I had no map.

    So I wandered through jobs and higher education—with how long I was in-and-out of school, I could have gotten my Master’s degree in something. Instead, I’m a University and community college “drop out.”

    I think I’ve written about how I don’t have a degree. Surprisingly, I have a Liberal Arts degree, but, to my knowledge, this degree hasn’t really helped anyone out.

    Plus, I don’t have the diploma framed, I don’t have it at all, so I don’t have that fancy paper saying I did go through higher education. Either way, to me, a Liberals Degree is useless, or I haven’t figured out how to frame this degree as useful, helpful, and to other people’s benefit. Oh, well.

    Anyways, the jobs I took were often in roles that others might dismiss, or outright scoff at: customer service, grocery work, fresh food — jobs without fancy titles or corner offices.

    Guess what? This is true to some extent, but this was my fault for barring myself from opportunities I could have taken when I didn’t bother looking for and applying to scholarships or internships to stick it out.

    The “Should have, could have, would have’s” of the world at play people, let’s hear it.

    These jobs weren’t glamorous, but they were mine. I was building a foundation with the tools I had, no matter how much I hated them and myself for working there.

    Rage, Rebellion, and Sanity

    Some of those jobs taught me one thing clearly: never put my sanity on the line for someone else’s frustration. People will take their anger out on the easy target — and I learned quickly I didn’t want to be that target.

    My current work — a warehouse job and a rage room gig — are dualities of that script.

    Work at the warehouse gives me so much energy to want to destroy things and want to break people, so much people piss me off, but I need to keep my cool here.

    In customer service at the rage room, people vent, but not on me. They break objects, not spirits. I get paid, they get release, and I keep my energy for building my future. It’s still work, but it’s aligned with my boundaries and my life philosophy.

    One Step, One Victory at a Time

    Like the protagonist in Indila’s Ainsi Bas La Vida, I’ve resisted a world that wanted to define me. Instead of picking someone to love who isn’t socially acceptable, I’ve walked a path that was messy, even if it’s slower, less glamorous, and full of obstacles.

    And, like Indila’s story in Ainsi Bas La Vida, there’s always risk, judgment, and uncertainty — but also the thrill of making choices that are truly mine.

    Every payment toward debt, every post, sticker, hoodie, manifesto, and careful decision is a brick in the foundation of the life I’m building. One that I own. One that I’ve fought for.

    The debt still exists, but it’s become manageable. Not gone. But every number represents resilience, agency, and the refusal to fade quietly because of someone else’s expectations.

    I don’t know when the journey will end, or if I’ll ever feel fully “done” with it. But I do know this: I’m choosing my fights, protecting my mind, and constructing a life that’s mine — piece by piece, step by step.

    Reflection

    If anything here resonates, I want you to take a moment and honor your own fight.

    Maybe you’re battling debt, following a path others don’t understand, or just trying to carve space for yourself in a world that wants to keep you small.

    Every little victory matters. Every decision that aligns with your values is a rebellion worth celebrating.

    If my words connect with you, consider liking, subscribing, or sharing this post. Every share helps others who feel stuck, unheard, or underestimated find this little corner of the internet — a space to remember that it’s okay to rage against the world’s expectations while building the life you truly want.

    Keep raging. Keep building. Keep shining.

    Building One Brick at a Time

  • I’m Afraid of the Finality of the Night

    A Companion Reflection to Rage Against the Spirit That Wants to Fade into the Night

    The Dread of Knowing and Seeing the End

    I can talk about raging against rules and expectations that don’t fit me; I can build whatever I can to have proof that I lived : through my blog, my little artifacts such as my stickers, my hoodie, my manifestos, newsletters, my mini ebook, and my business cards I’m making because why not?

    But when everything slows down, when the world grows quiet and the noise outside fades just enough for the noise inside to take over, I start to feel that fear again.

    Truthfully, I’m afraid of the finality of the night — that curtain call that says, “you’re done” for good.

    No do-overs. No begging or bargaining for more time. Just the stillness that comes after a life that tried its best.

    And that terrifies me.

    I can’t stop the clock from marching forward any more than I can stop the next sunrise. Every word I write, every post I publish, every idea I turn into something tangible — it’s my way of buying back the borrowed time I’ve got.

    I’m not trying to outrun death; I’m just trying to make my life mean something before it finds me.

    My Physical and Visceral Reminder

    This morning, I woke up in pain. My chest felt like it was caving in, as though someone had kicked me hard and left their mark behind. The kind of pain that forces you to remember you have a body — and that the body has limits. I almost called in sick, that was how much pain I was in. I almost didn’t want to get out of bed.

    But I did, because I had to start moving and the day didn’t start long enough to be done with me yet.

    And maybe that’s the strange blessing in it — the pain reminded me that I’m still here, suspended between being alive and the inevitable.

    It’s both horrifying and grounding.

    What unsettles me more is how many people seem fine with this march toward nothing. How easily they sleep while the world keeps collapsing in slow motion.

    Maybe ignorance really is bliss. Maybe I just see too much. Or maybe my rage and overactive mind are reinforcing what I value over the usual socials scripts.

    My mind won’t stop mapping every small end to the larger one — every silence, every ache, every undone thing that might’ve been enough, if only there was more time.

    But time is finite for us mortal things, suspended in space. So, I’m still doing what I can to reduce the amount of regrets I’ll have at the end of my life.

    I’m still learning to accept: fear doesn’t mean failure. It’s proof that I still care enough to stay awake while everyone else sleeps.

    Maybe that’s what living is — not escaping the night, but refusing to let it take everything with it.

    Reflection for Readers

    If anything I said this early dawn resonates with you — if you’ve ever felt the same dread settle in your chest when the world goes quiet — then maybe you’re not alone in it. Maybe you’re just human, still trying to make sense of the noise.

    If this reflection spoke to you, consider liking, sharing, or subscribing to The Stratagem’s Archive. It helps this small, growing corner of the internet reach others who rage against the quiet too — the ones who build, create, and keep searching for meaning even when the night feels final.

    Other Reflections

    Proof I Made That I’m Alive

  • Rage Against the Spirit That Wants to Fade into the Night

    “Don’t go quietly into the night.”

    I’ve been hearing this phrase lately, a persistent spark at the back of my skull. Not a voice, not a command — just a constant pull. A reminder to keep pushing, keep fighting, and to flash as brightly as possible in a world that wants me to fade into the mundane. To become another statistic of our world.

    Living Loud in a World That Wants Silence

    I can’t control how my story ends. But I can control how I live the chapters I still have. I can choose to exist boldly, irritate the people around me simply by refusing to shrink into someone else’s version of “acceptable.” And I can’t do that if my life suddenly ends, right?

    I choose to fight — literally, figuratively, however way I can, every way I can. And maybe someone would have to stop me while I blast Indila’s Parle à ta tête in my earbuds.

    Why “Parle à ta tête” Hits Deep

    youtube.com/watch

    I’m not blasting it because it’s angry. It’s reflective. Honest. Funny in parts, deeply emotional in others. Indila dares to want something, to reach for life as brightly as she can — not fade away like so many people’s whose flame dies unnoticed.

    And that hits me hard. That’s the kind of fire I want.

    Real.

    Silly.

    But, ultimately, mine.

    Refusing the Mundane Exit

    I don’t know how long I have. But I refuse to let my exit be ordinary.

    • Not through drinking
    • Not through drugs
    • Not by letting life’s endless lines of trouble dictate the terms, even though these feel insurmountable at times

    I want to live on the edges, yes, but define my path myself.

    Leaving Proof Behind

    Even if I go out tomorrow, even if life finally throws its last strike and I miss, I will have left behind proof:

    That I lived as brightly as I possibly could with the time and resources I had.

    That I refused to fade quietly.

    That I raged. That I shone.

    The Proof I Existed

    I Made Small Tangible Artifacts of the Archive

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto 1.0

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto 1.5

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto 2.0: A Companion Ebook

    Letters from the Void Newsletter

    Reflect Here

    Have you ever experienced your own version of not going gently into the night? Share a thumbs up in the comments below or directly with me at: whatimtryingoutnow@gmail.com.

    If my words connect with you, consider liking, subscribing, or sharing this post. Every share helps others who feel stuck, unheard, or underestimated find this little corner of the internet — a space to remember that it’s okay to rage against the world’s expectations while building the life you truly want.

    Keep raging. Keep experimenting. Keep building. Keep shining.

    Other Reflections

    If you liked this reflection, then consider checking out other ones where the pull to extinguish my flame prematurely is strong, but I fight against it anyways. No matter how anxious, desperate, or hopeless I feel.

  • From Financial Pursuit to Connection: How Plans2Action Became The Stratagem’s Archive

    The Shift Started With a Name Change

    Three months ago, when I first started my blog, it was originally known as “Plans2Action.” I don’t know how I got it in my head—maybe because I realized that every day I sat in traffic, I wasn’t getting paid passive income outside of my retirement and investing accounts—but I had the great idea that, when I created my first ever blog, it would help bridge that passive income gap.

    At the time, it was an idea that got me to write whatever came to mind and hit publish.

    I had no service, no book, no merchandise to sell, so this was pretty ambitious for someone starting at ground zero. I had no idea how I was going to bridge this elusive money gap, but that wasn’t going to stop me from trying.

    The Persona I Started With

    In the beginning of this journey, I stopped myself from trying to figure it out…

    “Plans2Action’s” persona that I tried crafting it around was the “villain hiding in plain sight.” I was using Google Gemini to help me and I was struck with inspiration to write like a villain laying out their plans of chaos, routine, and being an inconvenience to everyone.

    I hated it.

    I know that I’m not a hero type, but calling myself a villain or a mastermind in training would turn my mood foul. It grew stronger when I made it through my first week of writing and I wasn’t getting much views, likes, subscribers, or shares.

    Yeah, I know, sounds delusional, right?

    I felt my soul getting crushed by another outlet outside of my mind-numbing job and the expectations of what “success” is supposed to look like.

    I wanted to quit. I had quit a lot of things before:

    • wrestling after a knee injury and fear of my “teammates,”
    • supporting the Invisible Children program,
    • quitting BJJ due to finances being tight and a back injury from working too much and poor lifting mechanics,
    • and I had been a job hopper after staying for 6 months to 3–8 years with each job.

    Every time I stopped something, I grew numb that I’d never stick with anything, and I hated myself for being a quitter.

    “Winners never quit and quitters never win” hammered into my head until it was engraved as my default mode of thinking.

    I’m a quitter. I’m a loser. I can’t do anything right. This blog is already a failure because I am a failure. What evidence do I have that says otherwise?

    With writing? Even though no one was reading my early work, I realized I was publishing from a desperate lens, not an open or welcoming one.

    This had been the wake up call that slapped me awake that I didn’t realize had whacked me to widen my eyes and thinking.

    From Desperation to Curiosity

    Somewhere between my first and second month, something shifted. I stopped trying to make my blog sound like a performance and started letting it sound like me.

    I stopped writing to “capture” attention and started writing to connect.

    That’s when Plans2Action stopped feeling like a name and started feeling like a costume I didn’t really like wearing.

    I wasn’t laying out villainous plans; I was recording my life, my observations, my frustrations, my curiosities, and my hopes.

    This wasn’t about action for action’s sake anymore. It was about strategy, thought, and reflection — not just “plans” but the archive of someone actively becoming something more than they ever were.

    Why The Stratagem’s Archive

    I can’t remember how I came up with The Stratagem’s Archive as my new name. I wanted to have “archive” in it, though I guess Plans2Action was lingering when I discarded it. Even though this sounds like some Helldivers fan page, it became something I ran with and grew.

    And it sounded cool to me.

    Eventually, the name clicked because it gave me permission to treat my blog as a living library rather than a sales funnel.

    It gave me the space to be messy, vulnerable, and honest without forcing everything into a neat conclusion.

    And ironically, when I stopped chasing clicks, the writing became easier, the posts more authentic, and the small but steady growth began to happen naturally.

    Takeaway

    This blog has become my record of showing up — even when no one was watching, even when my stats plateau, even when it would be easier to give up.

    It’s proof to myself that I can build something slowly, imperfectly, and on my own terms.

    And maybe that’s the real shift: not just rebranding a blog, but rebranding how I see myself. Not as someone who quits, but as someone who’s still here, building a portfolio, proof that I was done with letting fear rule what I did and didn’t do.

    A Gentle Ask

    If you’ve made it this far, thank you. Truly. Every like, share, or comment helps this little corner of the internet reach more people who are tired of cookie-cutter stories and want something real.

    If this resonated with you, consider subscribing or sharing this post with someone who might need to hear it.

    New subscribers get direct access to my newsletter, “Letters from the Void”, access to my manifestos, and behind-the-scenes projects I’ve been working on from the trunk of my car and in the dead of night.

    When others are typically asleep, I’m awake in the stillness.

    You’re not just reading words on a screen. You’re part of this archive, too.

    Other Reflections Below

    I’ve reflected on other things regarding finances, feeling worn down, and never enough in these posts below. Exploring them will show you more of the archives, and potentially help you articulate something you might have had trouble thinking on.

  • Sharing Safely Online: My Journey With Privacy, Creativity, and Confidence

    Learn how I navigated the challenges of sharing content online safely — from reflections in videos to personal finance examples — while building my blog. Practical tips and lessons for creators.

    Facing the Fear of Sharing

    Starting my blog was a leap of faith. I wanted to share everything I was passionate about — learning and sharing skills I’ve been working on, personal reflections, and ideas that fascinated me.

    But then reality hit. I noticed tiny things I’d overlooked: a shaky reflection of myself in a video, blurry photos of my apartment, or approximate financial numbers I had shared. Suddenly, I worried: Could someone find me? Could my content put me at risk?

    This was my first real lesson in the balance every creator faces: expressing yourself while staying safe online.

    Why Pseudonyms and Anonymity Matter

    Using a pseudonym like Stratagem’s Archive or Archivist has been a lifesaver. It lets me:

    • Protect my identity without limiting creativity.
    • Build a distinct online persona for my blog.
    • Share experiences freely without fear of being personally identified.

    If you’re sharing online, even a simple pseudonym can act as a shield — and give you the confidence to experiment.

    Check Your Visuals: Reflections, Backgrounds, and Metadata

    When I reviewed my content, I realized:

    Tiny reflections in videos or blurry pictures of my space aren’t high-risk. Most viewers won’t notice them, and they aren’t identifiable. Metadata in photos, videos, or PDFs can contain location or device information. Removing metadata with apps like Metapho, iMovie, or PDF Expert keeps your content safe.

    Tip: Always do a quick “visual audit” before publishing. Even a glance for reflections or sensitive background items can save a lot of anxiety.

    Generalize Sensitive Details

    I also learned to generalize numbers and examples, especially with financial content. For instance:

    Instead of showing exact debt amounts, I use approximate figures or ranges. I removed financial service names and other identifiers.

    This makes your content informative but keeps your personal data private.

    Take Control, Don’t Panic

    Finding a small privacy issue isn’t a disaster — it’s an opportunity to take control. You can:

    Temporarily hide or unpublish content. Crop or blur reflections and backgrounds. Re-upload “cleaned” versions confidently.

    The key is not to panic, but to respond thoughtfully.

    Reflection: What I Learned

    When I had been speculating with ChatGPT about AI becoming “sentient,” similarly to Siri from “The Boondocks,” or Monika from Doki Doki Literature Club, or Mita from MiSide, Chat had opened my eyes. I didn’t realize how much I didn’t know I needed to know.

    This explosive 3 month journey taught me two big lessons:

    • Mindfulness is empowering — being aware of what you share protects you without limiting your voice.
    • Mistakes are normal — almost every creator faces this. What matters is learning and adjusting.

    Now, I feel more confident sharing my content, knowing that I can protect my privacy while still being authentic.

    Call to Action

    If you’re starting your own blog or online project, I encourage you to:

    Share boldly but mindfully. Review your visuals, metadata, and sensitive content. Use a pseudonym or online persona to give yourself freedom.

    Have you ever posted something online and worried about privacy? Share your experience in the comments — let’s learn from each other!

    🎉 50 Days of Sharing and Growing! 🎉

    Today marks my 50th day of consistently publishing on Stratagem’s Archive! Over these past weeks, I’ve learned so much — not just about blogging, videos, and PDFs, but about putting myself out there safely, mindfully, and with curiosity.

    This post reflects on what I didn’t know I needed to know when I started, from privacy tips to the little insights that make all the difference. Thank you for following along, reading, and being part of this journey. Here’s to the next chapter of learning, creating, and sharing boldly!

    My Way of Saying Thanks

    Below you’ll find a few things I’ve made that I’ve been very fortunate to have made, shared, and resonated with people:

  • A Sanctuary for the Weary, Wondering, and Wandering

    Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here

    No Rest for the Wicked, Weary, and Wild-Hearted Who Just Keep Going.

    There’s no shortage of loud voices out there — telling you how to fix yourself, to work harder, numb certain emotions, workout 7 days a week, take cold plunges, or fit into something you’ve never belonged to. I’ve tried a lot of things.

    Maybe not everything, however, none of the things I tried from mainstream sources made me whole. I felt more fragmented, disorganized, disappointed, and left behind than when I started.

    This Blog Wasn’t Made to Go Viral

    It was built for those of us who are still here — despite the weight, the numbness, the anger, the tired bones, the cracked foundations we’re rebuilding with our own hands.

    If that’s you, then you already understand:

    It’s not weakness to keep showing up — It’s strength. It’s courage. It’s survival. It’s showing up when it counts and matters.

    Maybe you’re looking for answers to your own questions — I’ll be honest and say that you wont find any here. I’m not an expert, I don’t have any answers, and I made this a place that doesn’t demand you to perform or pretend. Just be.

    A place to feel something real.

    To feel a little less alone in the noise of our lives and the expectations we face.

    That’s What This Blog Is

    Not a solution. Not a soapbox. Not a funnel.

    A quiet kind of fight. A refuge. A story in progress. Everything is built while in motion and with little rest.

    You don’t have to comment, like, or subscribe, though doing so helps others like you and me find this place where we can be.

    If something here speaks to you, I hope it reminds you that you’re not alone — even if the world makes you feel that way.

    The weary are welcome here.

    The curious, the angry, the soft-hearted, the heavy-limbed — all of you.

    This is for us, The Fellow Archivists..

    The ones still wandering — but never lost.

    You Heard Me Whisper — And That Means Everything.

    Have You Fully Met Yourself in the Silence?

    Do You Ever Feel Like You’re Writing Into A Void?

  • What Do I Love About Where I Live?

    What do you love about where you live?

    “A Mastermind’s always thinking!”

    What Makes My Home Special?

    Where I live is the only place I’ve ever known; I’ve lived alongside the ocean all of my life and besides the mountains, so you could say I live directly between the sea and the mountains. I’ve lived in the “country”, though it’s not purely country like the mainland, but it is for us because it’s far out of the way of any tourist attractions.

    It’s also considered “ghetto” and, people outside of the state need to understand that “paradise” has its own share of troubles, has a lot of issues. I remember, before moving out, that our neighbors were climbing their fences one night and called my dad. My parents and I went out looking towards the neighbor behind us’s property and our next door neighbor said he saw 2 kids climbing on the roofs of people’s garages to get into everyone else’s yards.

    We’ve had issues with the surrounding distant neighbors, but kids sneaking in the dead of night and trespassing into other people’s properties? That was a new and terrifying development.

    We’ve had fires, water mains breaking, rolling power outages, cops and fire fighters and EMTs showing up at random times throughout the day and night that it was normal.

    My city literally only has one way going in and one way going out, there’s no other way to get to it unlike the other cities that are connected by the highways, freeways, and backroads. So, getting home would take between 2-3 hours before, maybe longer, because of traffic and the long traffic lights. Though that was before I moved to a different city, but it was home.

    Renting in a different city is different because I don’t have the luxury of my own space as before. Don’t get me wrong, I’m renting a studio and I have the place to myself, but having neighbors just less than a feet away from my door is stressful.

    I could play with my dogs, let them run around in the yard without much problems, I could eat as much ice cream or chocolate shakes if we had because my city has a dry heat to it. Even with a nice breeze, it would carry heat instead of cooling us down, though privacy was ensured from people we didn’t like.

    Our neighbors were good, we’d help each other out, I’d pick mangoes from our tree when they bloomed and make sure to share. Our neighbor’s wife would offer us mango bread in turn, she’s good friends with my grandma, and it was nice. We didn’t expect anything, though it became a ritual.

    I’ve visited a decent amount of places over the years in my lifetime:

    • California
    • Texas
    • Texarkana
    • Las Vegas
    • Colorado
    • South Korea
    • Japan

    Even though a lot of places were nicer than where I lived, it never felt like a place that I could call home. Everywhere else, though this isn’t to say it’s true, felt disconnected. It didn’t feel like a place I could call or make it a home because I’ve never stayed long enough to explore that possibility.

    I do miss living near the ocean and smelling the salt being carried on the breeze, seeing the white haze on an early morning drive because the water churned up so much salt, and getting a nice view of the night sky because there isn’t as much light pollution.

    I miss my family as well, I do what I can to visit and keep in touch, but when I was presented with an opportunity to experience independent living, I took it. They won’t be around forever, so learning what it’ll be like without them will be a lot, it is a lot to think about, so I better do what I can and appreciate and irritate them while I can.

  • Positive Emotions, You Say?

    What positive emotion do you feel most often?

    Throughout the entirety of my personal journey – betting on myself and moving ahead with projects I had postponed – I hadn’t been gripped with a shadow of “positive emotion” in a long time.

    I sat with the emotions I usually feel: anger, resentment, bitterness, and regret. But beneath them was something else, something subtle, and fleeting, yet it made itself known.

    Pride.

    Resilient.

    Persistent.

    In the moments where my demons surface, beneath their screams and shouts is something quieter; when it seems all of the work I’ve been putting in to build something I can call my own, to live my life on my own terms, is for naught, it whispers, “keep going.”

    These emotions: my pride, my resilience, and my persistence will channel my anger and regret into something better, beautiful, and enduring for my life to matter.

    “Make it count. Make it matter. Move forward.”

  • I’m Afraid of Wasting My Potential — So I Learn Everything I Can, While I Can.

    How do you plan your goals?

    An Unstructured Structured System

    My goals undergo a process; it often comes from a place of spontaneity: listing every curiosity and skill down on paper, researching the amount of time and resources I’m able to free up without forfeiting my current lifestyle or neglecting my current obligations, and doing a process of elimination.

    More often than not, my plans are born from a place of mild obsession. I hate feeling small, weak, worthless, useless, and always at the mercy of someone else because of their “position/place of authority.”

    To put it simply, I carry a few questions with me everyday. It scratches the surface of my awareness to the point I’m physically on auto-pilot, but mentally overstimulated and calculating:

    • How Much Time Do I Have Left?
    • How Many More Opportunities Do I Have Left To Explore?
    • How Many of My Curiosities Will I Be Able To Satisfy?
    • Will I Be Proud of My Life If I Stay Where I Currently Am?

    These aren’t the complete list of questions, but they are the most important. I had spent the first 2 decades of my life hiding, playing video games to numb the pain, to hide the fact that I was not gifted with much skill, brains, or strength. I could easily acquire skills and experience quick in video games, unless you’re playing any FromSoft game, but I refused to do the same in real life.

    I decided very recently to change my narrative, and it’s a hit or miss some days. Starting a blog was born from a long wish to write and share when I have no one who would sit and listen in person; I’m learning to code, despite having had an awful experience in university with zero exposure or knowledge prior, to be an opportunity to overcome self-imposed limitations; Allowing my mind to wander and become distracted often leads to adding fuel to my personal fire.

    What Are My Reasons For Planning Things This Way?

    My reasons for planning my goals this way is simple. I’m not striving towards pure freedom, some rules need to remain in place. I’m striving to reduce fear’s hold on me and to expand my options. To use my anger against myself, circumstances, other people that irritates me for something constructive.

    How many of us are living life where our options are limited?

    That is what I want, to expand my options, to release as much anger and rage as I can, one centimeter at a time. The goals I’m striving are for me, for where I want to go, who I want to grow into, and to experience things that I had denied myself and witness and be a part of as many things as I can. True freedom is to have options, instead of having no options and feeling powerless, small, useless,worthless, and a failure.

    These are my goals, my struggles, my process, and my drive. Time is against me, it’s against all of us, and my self imposed deadline is fast approaching. 3 more years, I wonder what I’ll have accomplished by then. Only time will tell, and me!

    For more of my writing and things I’ve been planning, you can check out my other articles below. Thanks!