The Stratagem’s Archive

Category: Mindset & well-being

  • 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.

  • Protective Measures: Learning to Guard my Time, Energy, and Worth

    Tell us about a time when you felt out of place.

    This Is a Daily Occurrence—It’s a Protective Measure

    I’ve always liked interacting with people. I’ve liked feeling connected, being part of someone else’s life, contributing, sharing. But over the years, I’ve been burned too many times to give people chances freely anymore.

    I’ve been the friend who gave willingly: my time, my energy, my support, my loyalty, and even my money. I was either your biggest supporter or your biggest annoyance, and I did it without question. I showed up, I helped, I invested myself. That was then. Now? Now is a different story.

    Work and Boundaries

    At work, I’m wary of new people. I used to take on the responsibility of training new hires because I knew the behind-the-scenes processes, and I could teach others efficiently.

    I couldn’t understand how being good at one task could translate into being competent in others, but I did it anyways.

    Over the years, I learned to read people quickly. I could tell who would do well during training and beyond, and who wouldn’t even try. My criteria were simple: proactiveness, accountability, and responsibility.

    Now, in a new shift, I don’t invest the same energy. People are disappointing. Some new hires frustrate me because of the way they handle their responsibilities—or don’t handle them at all. For instance, in the warehouse, instead of grabbing the necessary equipment and jumping into sorting freight, they pass the work off to others, letting areas pile up while the rest of us fall behind.

    They stand there, staring as though saying “someone has to do it,” but they won’t move. Watching that laziness frustrates me beyond words.

    I hate it. I hate them. And I hate the way it makes me feel compelled to compensate for their apathy.

    This isn’t just a work issue—it reflects the larger patterns I’ve experienced in friendships. I’ve had to be hurt and let down repeatedly to learn my values and what I’m no longer willing to tolerate.

    Reciprocity. Respect for my time, energy, and boundaries. A single word text saying “I’m busy” instead of ghosting for weeks. Proactiveness. Accountability. Responsibility. Basic qualities, yet so rare.

    The Breaking Point in Friendship

    Before walking away from a decade-long friendship, I tried to communicate my boundaries clearly. I told my “friend” I was busy working my two jobs and would respond when I could. He ignored it. He continued texting and questioning my silence. He claimed he valued our friendship and would be there when I needed him.

    Then I needed him.

    I told him about something unimaginable: that my family had been attacked and killed. The silence that followed from him lasted two weeks. Two weeks where I had shown the deepest vulnerability of my life and received nothing in return. He only responded when I brought up a trivial event—a convention we had planned to attend months after the incident.

    When we finally hung out, he clung to his girlfriend like I was a stranger. I told them I felt out of place, like a third wheel. Walking through that convention, I realized I wasn’t a friend to him at all. I was someone taking up space while he maintained his life elsewhere.

    He would travel for events, for fun, for other friends, but never extended the invitation to me. When I made time, spent my money, or sent gifts, it wasn’t about closeness—it was about keeping me within reach, yet never truly valuing me.

    And somehow, all of this made me the one at fault for being “too much.”

    The discrepancies were overwhelming. I started seeing red flags I had previously ignored. No one is perfect, and everyone has flaws—but I wasn’t willing to tolerate this anymore.

    I left, and in doing so, I protected my sanity and my peace. Blocking him and his girlfriend, deleting everything I had of them, was not cruelty. It was survival.

    Protecting Myself

    I’ve learned firsthand that people often give lip service instead of action. I gave second chances, over and over, until I was the one being hurt and used. I reached the point where it wasn’t just disappointment anymore—it was a strain on my mental and emotional well-being.

    I’d rather be alone than stay with people who make me feel lonely, worthless, or like I have to beg for scraps of attention. I’m not a placeholder. I’m not someone whose presence should be conditional on convenience or obligation. Protecting my peace is not selfish—it’s necessary.

    Feeling Out of Place

    Being used by people I trusted has made me question my own worth, my own value. Even with myself. Over time, I’ve realized that transactional relationships are part of life, but being valued only for what you give is exhausting. It’s another brick on a back that’s already carrying too much weight. My load feels heavy every day, protesting, “No more.”

    I’ve discussed this in other posts:

    My past, my identity, my relationships—but it bears repeating:

    Standing up for your boundaries and self-worth is a daily practice.

    It’s hard, especially when the wounds are still fresh and the bleeding seeps through the stitches you’ve sewn yourself. Showing strength to the world and then revealing vulnerability to someone who fails to meet you halfway can feel like punishment.

    Reflection and Takeaway

    Protecting your time, energy, and peace is not optional—it’s essential. There’s a difference between giving willingly and being used. Boundaries are not walls; they are statements of self-respect. You deserve to be surrounded by people who value you, who respect your limits, and who meet words with action.

    It’s okay to walk away. It’s okay to leave friendships, jobs, or situations that drain you. Doing so doesn’t make you bitter or weak. It makes you alive. It makes you intentional.

    Call to Action

    If any of this resonates with you, share it, leave a comment, or subscribe to follow along.

    Every like, share, and subscription helps this little pocket of the internet reach more people who are tired of the same old stories—stories soupy with compromise, forced into molds that don’t fit.

    Here, we value honesty, boundaries, and the courage to protect our peace while still showing up for ourselves.

    Remember: you are not too much. You are enough, and you deserve to be treated accordingly.

    If You Made It to the End

    Thank you for taking the time to read this daily prompt post to the end. I have little gifts for you to explore and made. No pressure, no clickbait, nor rush. Just a few manifestos, sticker designs, and other projects I have in the archives waiting to be seen.

    Otherwise, you could check out other posts I have below. I’ll see you, Fellow Archivists, in the archives later.

  • Writing for 40 Days and Nights: Time for a Break

    This is Where I’m Pausing — Not Ending

    Forty days.

    That’s how long I’ve been showing up here — early mornings, late nights, between shifts, in the quiet spaces I carved out when the world pressed too heavy.

    Forty days of drafting, writing, publishing, creating, and letting my thoughts become proof that I was here.

    It feels as though I’ve done so much in 3 months than I had in my entire lifetime. Something amazing, something worth while. But now?

    Now, I need to pause.

    Why I’m Stepping Back

    Writing daily has given me momentum I didn’t think I had. It’s helped me build a voice, connect with Fellow Archivists, create sticker ideas, written 2 PDFs, and keep moving forward when life felt suffocating.

    But the truth is: I’m tired.

    I work two jobs. I lose sleep. I’ve been burning through myself to make space for these words. And while spite and fire have carried me further than I imagined, they can’t sustain me forever.

    If I want this archive to grow with me — not collapse under me — I need to rest.

    What This Means for the Archive

    This is not the end.

    I’ll still be active on The Stratagem’s Archive. I’ll still be tending the space — updating old posts, refining what’s here, and making sure this doesn’t just become another abandoned corner of the internet.

    Though, there won’t be new posts for a while. Not until I’ve taken enough time to breathe, to sleep, and to come back with more clarity and strength.

    To the Silent Readers and the Vocal Ones

    Thank you.

    Whether you’ve left comments, liked posts, subscribed, or simply read in silence at 3AM — your presence matters. You’ve been part of these forty days, even if we never exchanged a word.

    You all made writing worthwhile, even when I started writing here for myself.

    Here is a gift you could check out below if you’d like for being here and as Fellow Archivists:

    Two Manifestos + A Gift (For Fellow Archivists)

    Until I Return

    Taking a break and resting isn’t failure. Rest is part of the fight.

    So, consider this a pause — not an ending. I’ll be back when I’ve refueled, with more to share and more experiments to build with you.

    Until then, keep going in your own way. Keep growing, even if it’s in silence.

    — Stratagem’s Archive

  • More Than Muscle: What I Eat to Survive—Built on Stubbornness and Spite

    Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here

    No microwave. Low energy. Still eating. Learn how simple rice cooker meals support mental health, low energy, and survival in the midst of burnout and self-discovery.

    Preparing Meals With Minimal Ingredients, Highly Filling

    Let me be real with you:

    I’m not here meal-prepping like a fitness influencer.

    I’m not eating six clean meals a day, timed with a stopwatch.

    I’m building a life from scratch—out of pure stubbornness, exhaustion, and a bit of controlled rage.

    So, my eating habits?

    They’re not glamorous. They’re functional.

    And most days, they’re the only reason I’m still upright.

    My Go-To Meal: Survival in a Rice Cooker

    I don’t have a microwave.

    I don’t have a personal chef.

    I try not to make extra unnecessary dishes to warm up food as I possibly can.

    Instead, I do have bills, chronic fatigue, and a tiny bit of flexibility when it comes to making food.

    The thing that I make this in my rice cooker because it takes zero extra brainpower, and has been a huge help when I finish super late at work with no time to cook:

    White rice + Lentils + Canned chicken + Cut green beans + 2-3 spoonfuls of powdered chicken bouillon for flavor.

    Boom! That’s it. A one-pot meal that cooks itself while I decompress on the floor after work, before my body starts screaming again. I eat it a little at a time—because I feel as though I’m losing appetite, but I know I need something in my stomach.

    This typically lasts me all work week because I don’t take home lunch anymore. Not enough fridge space at work, or microwaves, though I could stand to try bringing food I could keep in a good cooler and eat it cold.

    Hi-chews, Ritz crackers, chocolate muffins, and other goodies aren’t helping me stay fed long enough to make it through the workday.

    Snacks Are Signals

    Speaking of which, some days, I end up crashing.

    I’ll go from rage-fueled productivity to complete shutdown as quick as you can blink. That’s when the sweet and salty snacks creep in—out of habit, comfort, low blood sugar, or just needing a break.

    I used to beat myself up for it.

    Now? I see it as data.

    A bag of chips, gummy candies, or some cookies doesn’t mean I’m lazy or failing—it means my body is waving a white flag. I try to listen, I don’t always do, but I’m getting better.

    It’s not my best strategy, but it’s what I’ve got at the moment.

    This Isn’t A Meal Plan. It’s A Reality.

    I’m not here to tell you what to eat.

    I’m here to say: this is what’s been keeping me alive while I claw my way toward the life I actually want.

    I’m not strong because of this.

    I’m strong in spite of how hard it’s been.

    Some of us aren’t counting macros—we’re counting minutes of energy left in the day.

    Although, this is just another learning curve for me to overcome regardless. I can’t survive only on snacks throughout the day and wait until I finish work to eat something filling, right? I’m not trying to do intermittent fasting while working a physical job. No thank you.

    Meal Ideas For Small Apartments

    I’m not saying that my rice meal is the only meal that I eat, I’ve just been super low energy most days, so I could improve my meals. While I do have to go shopping, I think I have a decent amount of food to work with.

    For my proteins, I have:

    • Steak
    • Chicken
    • Kalua pig
    • Portuguese sausage
    • Bacon
    • Spam (canned)
    • Tuna (canned — in water and oil)
    • Black beans & lentils (dry)
    • Whey protein (GNC tub — still good!)

    Below are the carbs I have:

    • White rice (main staple — check)
    • Pasta (Barilla)
    • Bread (frozen, sliced)
    • 30 packs of Sapporo shrimp flavored saimen
    • Some snack foods (Oreo/Reese’s/etc.)

    While it’s not much, I do have some veggies in stock:

    • Frozen green beans
    • Frozen California mix (carrots, broccoli, cauliflower)

    I have a few miscellaneous spices and seasonings, but it’s enough for my picky appetite:

    • Avocado oil
    • White miso paste
    • Hawaiian salt
    • Cayenne pepper
    • Regular pepper
    • Onion salt

    My shopping list is going to need a few things to complement what I do have. So, I’ll need to keep being stubborn and make a variety of meals to eat to help fuel my body from working and from working out. Even if it’s another meal I can cook in my rice cooker, it’s better than not eating at all.

    How Do I Plan Out Meals?

    I don’t plan my meals out. More often, I’ll see what I have that I could defrost the night before (like a tray of steak), have that ready when I get home, and cook out of pure spite so that: 1)I’m not waiting to cook when I get home; 2) I have something I can eat regardless of what time I finish work, so that I have the food ready and I took the time out of my, becoming more hectic, schedule and adjusting as I go.

    What About You?

    Have you ever found yourself relying on one strange, comforting meal to get through your days?

    Or eaten snacks in silence because your body needed a quick win, even if it wasn’t the “right” one?

    I’d love to hear it. No shame. No judgment. Just honesty.

    A Note To Fellow Archivists

    An Invitation to You

    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.

    Stay stubborn. Be adaptable. Stay fed.

    Other Posts To Check Out

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto

    More Than Muscle: Becoming Strong on My Own Terms

    More Than Muscle: My No-Gym, No-Excuse Home Setup

    More Than Muscle: What Real Strength Looks Like to Me.

  • What If Becoming Better is Making Us Worse?

    Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here

    My Journey into “Self Betterment”

    I’ve tried so many things in the name of becoming a better version of myself that it’s been a ridiculous journey. You name it and this isn’t the full comprehensive list:

    • Cold showers.
    • Journaling.
    • Intermittent fasting.
    • Lifting weights.
    • Meditating.
    • Waking up early.
    • Tracking habits.
    • Therapy (though I didn’t know how to be honest back then).
    • Stoicism.
    • Buddhism.
    • Financial planning.
    • SMART goals.
    • Praying.
    • A lot of it!!!

    And for a while, they worked, I felt healthier, stronger, and able to take on the world—until I couldn’t anymore. Why weren’t they working anymore? Great question! The insight I got was pretty simple and straight forward in my opinion.

    These habits weren’t helping me improve my life at all.

    Things would spiral out of control, my anger and resentment and bitterness and my envy would arise whenever I wasn’t keeping up with those habits like so much “Successful people” preached doing.

    When I couldn’t keep up, I vehemently hated myself to the point I would berate myself, tears streaming down my face, red and livid, and I couldn’t stand hearing my own voice.

    When I missed a day, I felt like I was falling apart. That my life was being uprooted again because I had no solid foundation to plant and grow my own roots in where I could be proud, not ready to burn myself at the stake.

    It took me years to reflect, years to stop and reconsider what was going on. Then, it hit me; maybe the issue wasn’t that I was lazy, undisciplined, or doomed to be stuck.

    Maybe the problem was this:

    Self-improvement became a prison when it stopped allowing me to be human.

    The Rigidity of “Better”

    Since starting my journey to be a “better version of myself” back in University, now as I currently am, I noticed that the Self-help culture started sounding like this:

    Wake up earlier. Don’t make excuses. Keep going no matter what. Grind harder. Be grateful. Don’t complain. Smile. Fix your mindset. Work out. Read more. Meditate. Eat clean. Keep up. Don’t fall off.

    It sounds motivating, it sounds like good advice because taking care of ourselves is important—however, it becomes just another script to follow, just another thing to fail at, if we don’t fit the mold like the people peddling the advice expect, the we’re still the failures.

    Even religion sometimes feels this way too: all structure, no grace. At least, from personal experience and interactions with certain people, this was the impression I got.

    I’ve been the type of person who wouldn’t bother much if people, especially in religious settings, were too unforgiving and came across as, “you’re going to hell,” swearing at people and being graceless, then go to pray as though they didn’t mistreat someone for having different beliefs and practices.

    It took me some time to realize that we all contradict ourselves. We all fall short, no matter the setting, beliefs, or practices we follow.

    And, honestly, I could stand to have more of less systems to tell us we’re broken, that we’re failures, if we don’t already tell ourselves this because I do and I stopped doing a lot of these things, these habits, myself.

    I’ve been wondering how much we need room to breathe, since life is already stifling a lot of us as it is.

    To ask: What if I’m not failing? What if I’m just tired? What is this habit really doing for me if things are falling apart and I still have to pick up the pieces?

    When I Miss a Day, I Feel Like I’m Falling Apart

    I was learning to code recently—something I’ve wanted to do for years.

    I stayed consistent for a month, even through exhaustion. But then I hit a wall. I struggled, and I stopped. Just like that.

    Then I heard my inner critic come back with a vengeance, it was so loud:

    “You see? You’re slipping again. You’ll never keep up. You’ll always be the failure you always were and will never get out of your shitty situation.”

    That voice used to win. But now? I’m learning to ignore it.

    Why?

    Because I’m working two jobs, sleeping in my car most mornings to get parking before my warehouse shift, battling back pain that shoots down my leg, trying to eat on a schedule that barely allows for rest, and still—still—I wake up and try again.

    That’s not failure, though it feels like it. That’s survival. That’s strength. Even if it might not seem like it, like I’m slowly killing myself and I’m refusing to stop.

    Even when I have nothing left to give, I can still:

    • Stretch for one minute
    • Sit in silence before I pass out
    • Let my body sleep when it’s ready
    • Forgive myself for what I couldn’t do today

    It doesn’t make me lazy.

    It makes me human.

    I Don’t Want to Be Like “Them”

    There are people out there who seem to have it all figured out—wealth, health, perfect routines, business ventures, large platforms. Some of these individuals, in my eyes, tend to mock people like me: the ones with 9-to-5s, who don’t have a “hustle,” who didn’t invest when they were 16, who are still figuring things out at 28, 29, or 35.

    And yet… I don’t want to be like them.

    They flex success, but rarely acknowledge how much help they had.

    They show certainty, but never talk about the cost.

    I don’t want to pretend to be okay just to look like I’ve arrived.

    I don’t want to shame people into growth by making them feel behind because it’s a shitty feeling added on top of other shitty feelings for not being further along in our own supposed journeys.

    I want to live in a world where being kind to yourself isn’t seen as weakness, but also not being used as a crutch.

    Where becoming better doesn’t mean becoming someone you’re not and becoming like someone else you might not even like or agree with.

    Where falling apart doesn’t mean you’ve failed—it just means you need to rest, adjust, and try a different approach. (Very much like what From Software’s games had taught me to do and apply it in real life).

    The Truth I’ve Learned (The Hard Way)

    You can try every method, practice every habit, and still feel empty inside if you’re doing it from a place of self-loathing instead of self-respect.

    I’m not saying self-improvement is bad. I’m saying it needs space for failure, adjustment, and rest.

    You’re allowed to:

    • Take a break
    • Miss a day (or a week)
    • Not be perfect
    • Not feel like doing it
    • Not optimize every second of your life
    • Question the rules
    • Do things your own way
    • Stop when it hurts

    You don’t need to build a life you hate to prove that you’re capable. You’re already capable, it’s just in ways where trends don’t approve, while you’ve experienced your own kind of Hell and are still marching through.

    Final Thoughts

    I’m still figuring this out. Any of this.

    I still struggle.

    I still feel like a mess everyday.

    I still feel angry, bitter, tired, alone, and afraid that I’ll never “make it.”

    But I’m learning that the goal isn’t to become perfect.

    It’s to become real.

    It’s to build a life that’s sustainable—even in the dark.

    Even when no one’s clapping.

    Even when it’s just you and a blog post at 4 AM, hitting publish, hoping someone understands.

    So if you’re trying—and struggling—to become better, but feel like it’s making you worse…

    You’re not alone.

    You’re not broken.

    You’re just tired.

    And that’s okay.

    So if you’re trying—and struggling—to become better, but feel like it’s making you worse… then it’s time to rest, re-evaluate your situation, and try a different approach, wouldn’t you agree? Just remember this, even for a brief moment:

    You’re not alone.

    You’re not broken.

    You’re likely very tired of a lot of things.

    And it’s okay to realize and say, even to yourself, that, “something isn’t working,” but I can make adjustments as needed because it’s my choice, not because it came from someone else telling me how “wrong” I am.

    If this post resonated with you…

    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

  • Burning the Candle at Both Ends… For What?

    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

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto

    What Good is “History” If There’s No Future?

    A Quiet Door I’ve Left Open Ajar

    When a Raise Feels Like a Golden Prison

  • 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?

  • More Than Muscle: My No-Gym, No-Excuse Home Setup

    Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here

    Life Outside of the Gym Setting

    Most people go to the gym for more than just equipment. It’s the energy, the people, the buzz — the sense that you’re part of something. I get that. I used to train in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and felt that same rush — sparring, learning, getting my face shoved into the mat, and still getting back up. There’s a kind of community there that makes you feel like you belong.

    But life doesn’t always let you belong.

    Pain, exhaustion, work, debt, and the kind of schedule that doesn’t give a damn if you’re sore or soul-tired — those are real. So instead of wishing for a better time or waiting for a perfect gym, I’ve built a home setup that fits my life as it is — not the life I wish I had.

    This is strength — to me, it’s not the numbers I lift, but the fact that I still show up, even when my lower back flares up with acute and electric pain shooting up and down my left leg.

    My Apartment Friendly Home Gym

    No, I don’t have a power rack or squat bar. I’m not looking for “absolute strength.” Anymore at least. What I want is to feel good in my body again — powerful, capable, like I’m a character out of the games I love:

    • The Tarnished from Elden Ring.
    • Kassandra from Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey.
    • The Hunter from Bloodborne.
    • Wolf from Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice.

    Characters who don’t just survive — they move, they fight, they climb, they persist, they endure and thrive, even starting out as faceless nobodies at the ending of a life changing event or in the middle of it.

    I train to feel like I can handle whatever the world throws at me — physically and mentally, even with my current limitations because life tends to beat you until you’re within an inch of your life, no matter what you do and don’t do.

    Here’s What I Have For My Set Up

    • 25–35 lb sandbag – For squats, rows, carries, and controlled chaos
    • Kettlebells (10–30 lbs) – Versatile and easy to grip for swings, squats, and more
    • High dip bars – Bodyweight rows, dips, and pushups with range
    • Resistance bands – Mobility, control, and variety without weights
    • 8 lb weighted vest – Makes everything harder and humbles you fast
    • 2.5 lb ankle/wrist weights – Subtle burn, especially for rehab-style days
    • Foam roller – For recovery and mobility sessions Mindset – The 2nd most important thing in the room
    • Myself — the MOST important thing in the room.

    Since I also live above people, I have to make adjustments and choose appropriate workouts, so ballistic movements (like jumps) are out — but likely anyone can still get strong no matter their circumstances and restrictions.

    A Glimpse into My “Routine” — If You Can Call It That

    Today, after a long shift and traffic that tested my last nerve, I came home and:

    • Washed dishes
    • Threw tomorrow’s steak in the fridge to defrost
    • Picked up my sandbag and knocked out: 2 sets of sandbag squats 2 sets of sandbag rows

    Was it a “full workout?” Maybe not. But it was something. My journal has been filled with “rest days” lately, but today I reminded myself that I don’t need to be perfect — I just need to keep going.

    Some days, it’s:

    Pushups and bodyweight squats Sandbag carries or deadlifts Follow-along yoga (especially on flare-up days)

    I’m doing what I can until I can do more — boxing, parkour, rock climbing — and anything else I’ve been eyeing from a distance to compliment my wrestling and BJJ experience.

    This Regime Isn’t About Aesthetic or Approval

    I don’t train to look pretty. I never cared for makeup or the kind of attention I didn’t ask for. I train to earn the respect I don’t get just for existing. I train to feel comfortable in this body that’s carried pain, loss, anger, and fire for years.

    I don’t believe strength has to mean lifting more weight and just building absolute strength. There’s more to life than that. Sometimes, it’s lifting again — even after days, weeks, months, hell even years, that tried to kill your spirit, body, and break your mind.

    In Conclusion

    You don’t need a gym to be strong.

    You need a reason — even if that reason is rage, pride, spite, or the quiet belief that maybe, just maybe, you’re not done yet.

    For my recurring and quiet readers:

    What’s does strength look like, feel like, to you?

    Not the strength people keep shoving into your face when you don’t agree with it or what people say it is — what it actually means to you.

    You don’t have to comment. But if you’re reading this in silence, still breathing, still getting up, still moving — I see you.

    And if you’re building your own training setup, small or scrappy or silent — tell me about it. Or don’t. Just keep going. That’s enough.

    If this spoke to you, leave a comment — I actually read them. They remind me I’m not alone in this either.” Sharing helps others find this space too. That matters more than you know.

    — The Stratagem’s Archive

    More Than Muscle: What Real Strength Looks Like to Me.

    It’s All Perspective: On Writing, Struggle, and Using the Tools That Keep Me Going

    Trunk Logic: Thoughts From the Pre-Shift Void

    Thank You + Free Download

    Letters from the Void Newsletter

  • Trunk Logic: Thoughts From the Pre-Shift Void

    “Reflections from the trunk of my car, before work: Is life just a social experiment we never signed up for? Thoughts on change, rebellion, and small comforts.”

    — The Stratagem’s Archives

    P.S:This post was originally shared with my (newsletter) subscribers first.

    If you’d like to get these thoughts directly (and occasionally earlier), you can subscribe through my blog — no spam, no pressure, just quiet dispatches from wherever life finds me to your inbox.

    Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here

    Is Life One Huge Social Experiment We Didn’t Know We Consented To?

    I’ve been sitting with a question lately — the kind that shows up uninvited when the world goes quiet.

    Does being alive — and being human — feel like a massive social experiment no one remembers signing up for?

    Because, to me, sometimes it does.

    Like every day, we’re thrown into a loop of expectations, roles, metrics, and mantras.

    “Go with the flow.”

    “Stay positive.”

    “Work hard. It’ll pay off.”

    But… what if none of this is flowing? What if we’re all silently breaking under the same pressure but pretending it’s fine because we think it’s just us?

    We have the opportunity to experiment every day — with our choices, ideas, preferences, energy, moods, hopes, the topics we write about and how, with anything really. Maybe not with as much leeway or legroom as we’d like.

    Believe me, I’ve been sleeping curled up in my car for 2 years now and finally decided to try something new.

    However, rarely do we change what matters. We tend to stick to habits, even when they no longer help us in any way, because they are familiar. We don’t always shift the experiment to our liking and, while not always on purpose, I’m convinced that everyone is the control group of this experiment.

    If we don’t try something even slightly different, then we wonder why the results we get are never changing.

    A Small Personal Experiment

    Before my shift today, I tried something different — not profound, just practical. I brought my iPad with me to work on my blog more, I’ve stayed up longer than normal where I’d usually be napping, then I laid down in the trunk of my car with my legs stretched into the main body of the vehicle.

    It’s not poetic. My trunk is full of junk. I’ll probably hit my head when I sit up.

    But this was more comfortable than curling up in the back seat or sleeping with my legs towards the trunk instead.

    Plus, this was more private too.

    And, for a brief moment, it felt like I had control over one small part of my day. Like I had outsmarted the discomfort in a world that tells me to just deal with it.

    I don’t want to keep “dealing with it.”

    That tiny act of rebellion — of laying differently, of doing what worked better for me — reminded me:

    Even when we don’t control the experiment, we can still change how we respond to it.

    If You’re Reading This…

    You don’t have to sleep in your car trunk to know what I’m talking about.

    If you’ve ever asked yourself:

    • Why does life feel like a loop I didn’t choose?
    • Why am I so tired of trying to “stay positive” when nothing’s changing?
    • What small thing can I try today to feel a little more like a person instead of a cog?

    Then you’re already running your own experiment. You’re already adapting and resisting in quiet ways.

    Want More Like This?

    This post started as part of my newsletter, where I share things that don’t always make it to my blog — the stranger thoughts, the in-between reflections, and the moments written in silence before work.

    If that sounds like something you’d want more of, then I’d like to invite you to click subscribe wherever you see the button.

    No pressure, no spam. Just one fellow archivist sending notes to another.

    Some Reflections to Consider

    If life is a social experiment — what kind of subject would you want to be?
    Someone who repeats the patterns they were handed?
    Or someone who quietly tweaks the design, even if no one’s watching?

    You don’t have to comment.

    You don’t have to share.

    But it does help other people find this space; I’m slowly building from the ground up and make it a space for the weary, angry, wondering, and wandering souls out there.

    Final Thoughts

    “Maybe life is a social experiment going insane, but that doesn’t mean I have to go insane too.”

    Thanks for reading,

    — The Stratagem’s Archive

  • When a Raise Feels Like a Golden Prison

    Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here

    A 30% raise sounds great—until you realize you’re giving up your body, sleep, and peace just to keep the job that’s breaking you.

    Has anyone really calculated how much their work is worth to them when their lives: body, soul, mind, recreational activities, relationships, and personal projects are taken out of the equation?

    — The Archivist

    How Much of You are Giving Up in Exchange?

    We had another work meeting today.

    Like in most of those meetings, I wasn’t fully paying attention. Not out of disrespect, but just pure exhaustion and never eating breakfast because I have to choose between sleep or food. Yeah, this isn’t a sustainable habit, but it’s been one I’ve known for most of my working life.

    Anyways, I’m barely half-listening to what’s being discussed while trying not to mentally spiral over how tired I am or what tasks are going to break my back next. That is… until one of my coworkers asked me about the 30% raise said to be scheduled to happen this October.

    This immediately got my attention. I thought to myself; “30%? Since when are we jumping from single digit raises and into the double digits?”

    Naturally, the question everyone started asking was: “Is this for just the higher-ups or for us too?” Because for the last 4 years, most of us on the warehouse floor usually got between 3-6% raises each October, if we’re lucky it went through. And those felt generous at the time—until now, when we’re suddenly dangling a much bigger number.

    I did the math. If it does apply to me, I’d go from earning $23/hour to about $29.90/hour. Those earning $20.53/hour would jump to around $28.12/hour.

    Sounds good, right?

    More money means more security and more opportunity to pay off debt faster, build my emergency savings, contribute to my Roth IRA, support causes I care about, buy things I want just because, or buy something for my family.

    Except… I didn’t feel excited. I felt numb. I got suspicious. What was the catch? That was the question my mind was leaning into, even though my coworkers all sounded excited and buzzing around me. I felt like the odd one out, but you can’t blame me for not sharing their excitement.

    You want to know why I wasn’t including myself in the excitement? Because the truth is, I’m not sure I can keep doing this — raise or not.

    Update:

    It was too good to be true; seemed that enough of my coworkers heard 30%, but it was the usual 3% raise instead. A lot of people were VERY disappointed, but the numbers are no longer absurdly high, and all is right again.

    What Am I Giving Up By “Earning More”

    I’ve been at this warehouse job for 4 years now and I’m turning 29 this year. And while I’ve gotten stronger and smarter in some ways, I’ve also gotten tired. Not just sleepy-tired where a good 8+ hours of rest could remedy. No, not that kind.

    I’m Soul-crushing-tired.

    • I’m sleeping in my car before shifts just to get parking at work.
    • I’ve seen the physical trainer at work more times than I want to admit because my body is starting to show the cracks.
    • I can’t sleep peacefully anymore. I wake up already drained.
    • My back hurts to the point pain shoots down my left leg like electricity is coursing through my veins.
    • My energy is non-existent. My mind doesn’t stop spinning, even when I try to rest.

    And the things that make life feel worth living? They’ve started falling away.

    My hobbies. My curiosity. My ability to try new things. Maintaining my relationships with my family, that kind of thing. While typing this post, I’ve caught myself resting in front of my iPad keyboard now and again, trying to force myself awake and staring at the clock screaming at me that I’ll be getting less sleep. Again.

    Even basic rest is being sabotaged despite my efforts. Everything I called my own is now pushed to the side so I can keep showing up, day after day, for a job that’s breaking me in slow motion.

    More Money = Less Me

    Here’s the thing: I know that money is important, I get that part intimately. I have debt. I have future plans. I’m not allergic to the idea of stability. But lately, I’ve started to wonder:

    What’s the point of more money if it comes at the cost of myself?

    I’ve already lost time. Lost parts of my health. Lost entire evenings and weekends to fatigue and dread. How much more am I supposed to give?

    How much is my body worth?

    How much is my mental clarity worth?

    How much of my potential am I supposed to sacrifice for the illusion of being “secure”?

    A Choice That Doesn’t Feel Like One

    At one point, our job’s big boss once said during a personal meeting with her some weeks ago:

    “If we(frontline workers) choose to stay with the company, great. But if we choose to leave, that’s up to us too.”

    That’s easy to say when you’re on the other side of the floor.

    Sure, it’s “my choice.” But when you’re trying to pay rent, get out of debt, save for emergencies, and survive in a world that gets more expensive by the day — is it really a choice?

    It feels more like a corner I’ve been painted into. One where the door says freedom, but it’s locked by bills, fear, and exhaustion.

    The Part-Time Job I Don’t Want to Lose

    I also have a part-time job at a rage room and I actually enjoy it: this job makes me feel like a person, not a machine. I’ve been given a $1/hour raise within not even a few months since starting by my own merit, not out of obligation like a lateral raise. One where one of the owners told me, with certainty, that he doesn’t see me quitting or being fired any time soon.

    But with the increasing demands of my full-time job — the possibilities of earlier start times, later end times, and higher volume in my work future — I might have to quit that part-time job just to keep up. And I hate that.

    Because in trying to “do the responsible thing,” I’m giving up something that gives me energy and meaning. Again, the tradeoff doesn’t feel fair and I hate it with a passion.

    I Don’t Want to Climb the Corporate Ladder

    Some people might suggest I try to move up the ladder in my company and aim for a better paying position.

    But I’ve looked up that ladder — and I don’t want to.

    More responsibility. More hours. More expectations. More sacrifice. Same machine. Different uniform.

    I’m not trying to climb higher into something that’s already draining me.

    So, Now What?

    Honestly, I don’t know.

    I’m stuck in the same mental loop a lot of working people are in:

    “I need this job… but I’m not sure I can survive it.”

    A 30% raise sounds great. But it’s still a prison if I can’t live fully. If I can’t be well. If I’m giving up everything that makes me have to pick work over my life just to earn more, then I can’t be the only one feeling like this is crazy, right?

    So maybe that’s the real question:

    What are we working for if we’re too broken to enjoy any of it?

    One and All Who Made it Through

    If you made it this far — thank you.

    Whether this is your first time here or you’ve quietly read my posts before, just know this: I see you. You don’t have to comment. You don’t have to share. You don’t have to explain anything about where you’re at in life right now, unless you want to.

    If you’ve ever sat alone in a parking lot before your shift, traded your energy for a paycheck, or wondered if surviving is all there is — you’re not weird, broken, or too much.

    You’re human. And you’re not alone here.

    Thanks for reading.

    If someday you feel like speaking, you’re always welcome to. I read and respond to every comment whenever I can, and sharing helps other people find this space too. But if today all you have is quiet recognition — that’s more than enough.

    Have You Fully Met Yourself in the Silence?

    The Moment I Stopped Waiting for Permission

    More Than Muscle: What Real Strength Looks Like to Me.

    Feel free to also check out my newsletter (Letters from the Void Newsletter) or my downloadable PDF (Thank You + Free Download) here as a thank you from me to you.

    Until next time, I’ll see you all later in the archives.