The Stratagem’s Archive

Category: Personal growth

  • Oh, Ho, Ho, Ho, No! The Christmas Tree From October Came Back: Time For Panic Reflecting and Things I’ve Learned in 2025

    It Was Signaling The Beginning of An Inevitable End

    That Christmas tree I saw at work back in October was a menace. We didn’t get to Halloween or Thanksgiving when it came through on the conveyor belt and, once it was sorted and shipped to wherever it needed to go, it was out of sight and out of mind.

    This was when I talked about having, One Foot in the Grave and a Christmas Tree in My Face. 

    Good times. Good times.

    Now, that damn inflatable Christmas tree returned with a vengeance.

    And it brought friends….

    • Existential dread.
    • Time blindness.
    • Another year is ending.
    • WHERE DID THE TIME GO!?!? Panic mode activated.

    And that was only the beginning of my stomach dropping.

     I started seeing reindeer antlers on cars; Nightmare Before Christmas decorations strung up at people’s houses; Christmas carols blasting in the stores on constant loop from hell; and crowds of people scrambling to do their Christmas shopping. I’ll be at the store picking up broccoli and distilled white vinegar and end up thinking, what the fuck have I been doing in 2025? 

    Though I usually wait until I get home to spiral out of my mind. I don’t need to embarrass myself further in public for not having any “cheer” in my body, much less about dreading the new year drop kicking its way in soon.

    Reflecting Without Spiraling: Anything Worth Patting Myself on the Back For?

    This is a legitimate question—not just for shits and giggles. I personally struggle with accomplishments and recognition, even from personal achievements.

    I NEED to see whether or not my life moved a little away from previous years, else my feedback loop from Hell will scoff and mutter, loser, under its breath.

    So, Fellow Archivists, let’s review what we’ve been doing throughout 2025 together. Silently for you guys, unless you want to share, but publicly for me.

    Let’s Count What Was Different This Year

    Alright, let’s do this bullet point style. The things I’ve accomplished this year that I can say I’m kinda proud of have been:

    • Moving into my own studio.
    • Living on my own for 7 months so far.
    • Got a second job I really like.
    • Built and sustained The Stratagems Archive for 6 months.
    • Made 50 blog cards.
    • Wrote 120+ blog posts.
    • 17 wonderful subscribers—now known Fellow Archivists.
    • The cerebral Fellow Archivists who visit and reflect among themselves.
    • The amazing 44 people who downloaded my experimental PDFs.
    • The incredible 35 people who thought this blog was worth sharing on social media.
    • Wrote 5 Letters from the Void Newsletter articles.
    • Wrote 3 downloadable PDFs.
    • Made 6 stickers.
    • Made 1 personal hoodie.
    • Paid off 1 major credit card debt I carried for 7 months.
    • Got into lock sport/lock picking.
    • Learned to code for 31 days before stopping.
    • Canceled a lot of paid subscriptions I wasn’t using anymore.
    • Gave up friendships that were draining.
    • Slowly re-entering BJJ after nearly 1 year away.
    • Working hard to fund this blog from scratch.

    Yeah, I’m not really sure what else to put down. This list is looking rather long, but I can say that the years prior to 2025, I couldn’t even list 1 thing that felt like I did something that was worth sharing or celebrating. 

    This year’s Christmas reflection has given me a lot of opportunities to say, this year is going to be different, and I actually did something about it.

    Does my list look like I’m coping? Well, yes and no. 

    I’ve been pretty good at making sure my personal obligations have been taken cared of. But does anything I’ve been doing pushing me forward? I haven’t been given enough room to see that yet. 

    It’s not a bad thing, but I’m still in this weird in-between space where I’m not personally drowning, but I’m not completely above water just yet. However, I’ve managed to get a small bubble of air to breathe a little more than I ever gave myself in the last 10+ years.

    Honestly, never in my life would I think anyone would read anything I wrote or try out anything I made and that’s one of the main things that made this year different.

    Not just the blog itself, the late nights and early mornings, the emotional numbness and physical flatness. The fact real people came over quietly and gave this space a chance? Means much more to me than anything I could ever give back for people being here in the void and existing.

    Reflection Questions For You, Fellow Archivists

    Reflection Questions for you Fellow Readers

    • When did you first notice this year felt different—even if you couldn’t explain why at the time?

    • What did you keep doing this year, even when no one was watching or cheering?

    • Which effort of yours feels “small” on paper but took everything you had to sustain?

    • What did you build or maintain quietly, without knowing if it would ever pay off?

    • Where were you mostly coping this year—and where, even briefly, were you moving forward?

    • What didn’t collapse in your life, even though it easily could have?

    • If you made a list like this one, what would surprise you by being longer than expected?

    • What would it mean to acknowledge progress without turning it into pressure for “more”?

    • What part of this year are you still too close to fully appreciate?

    • If next year only asked for continuity—not transformation—what would you want to keep?

    You don’t have to answer every single question, unless you want to, but a lot has happened this year that I didn’t want to cut out a lot of questions just to keep this list short.

    In Conclusion 

    2025 has been an interesting year and it will soon come to a close. I could have written this post closer to Christmas or New Years, but it was worth saying this sooner than later.

    Given that I don’t have a consistent posting schedule, I figured let’s get this out of the way and look into the future for whats next for The Stratagem’s Archive and for myself, The Archivist, of this lovely little corner of the internet.

    I still haven’t gotten my shit together, I still don’t know what I’m doing, I have no idea where my life or my blog is heading, but that’s mostly the point of The Stratagem’s Archives.

    Everyday I have to remind myself what I wrote on the back of my blog card because that is how I see life.

    “Life is an experiment: I’m here for the data and the fallout.”

    How else am I, or any of us, supposed to keep entertained for the following years?

    Thank You Fellow Archivists

    If you made it to the end, I’m really grateful all of you for spending your time here in The Stratagem’s Archives. If you would like to like, subscribe, share, or reflect silently with yourselves, then it would be much appreciated, however you found your way here.

    Until next time, I will see you all in the archives.

    2026, here we go!

    More From The Archives

    Gifts From The Archives

  • My 1-Month Primal Queen Experiment: What I’ve Learned So Far

    What Did I Notice In The Past Month?

    After one month of taking Primal Queen, I wanted to reflect honestly—not on hype, but on what actually changed, what didn’t, and what I still need more time to understand.

    Truthfully? I didn’t notice much.

    I’ve been going through the motions of my day-to-day instead of noticing any changes in my mood, energy, and overall health because my mind was more focused on making sure I took my supplements twice a day, instead of what’s happening internally with my body.

    Even though I chose to pursue this experiment for one month—AFTER my Ma told me to start taking Primal Queen because it helped her within weeks—I’m taking things one step at a time because maybe I’m the dud instead of the supplement being the dud this time.

    According to their pamphlet and website, in one month I should experience a “likely reduction in iron deficiency leading to increased vitality, sex drive, and overall well-being.”

    While I didn’t notice anything yet, my parents offered me lovely feedback about what they did notice:

    • I’ve been less cranky
    • I’ve been less irritable

    I’ve been more fluent in speaking and understanding my parents, which means my resting bitch face has softened slightly—a win in itself.

    Thanks, Ma and Dad.

    So, I guess that means I’m getting one step closer to becoming a real-life superhero, right?

    Even with their feedback, I really can’t jump to conclusions. My daily habits were still in play:

    • I don’t eat often
    • I stay up late and wake up throughout the night
    • I feel groggy in the morning
    • I still feel like I don’t want to be anywhere else, except home
    • I still make time to train twice a week for my personal training goals.

    By the time I started this experiment, I was skeptical. I couldn’t attribute how my cycle felt in November to either being a good month or the supplement kicking in.

    Tracking my progress was tedious, and doing so while on vacation came at a slight cost. Nothing major, but it did affect my personal data collection.

    We were constantly on the go—walking, standing, getting onto packed trains and buses, and navigating crowds of people. I didn’t take my Primal Queen supplement for four days because we weren’t eating throughout the day.

    Honestly, missing a few days didn’t ruin the experiment at all. Life gets in the way, things don’t go according to plan, and a little adjustment and leniency go a long way to seeing whether this experiment is helpful in the long run.

    However, much like the expectations I laid out in my first article,My 1-Month Primal Queen Experiment: Tracking Real Results and Supplement Effects 2 Weeks In, I’m not going to blindly listen to my parents claim this supplement is the end-all-be-all.

    A little progress goes a long way, but I need to make sure the supplement is helping me with mood, energy levels, iron deficiency, and flow—and that I’m not sabotaging it with poor habits—before exclaiming, “this shit didn’t work.”

    Many supplements I’ve tried in the past were failures after months of trial and error.

    Takeaways and Reflection Questions for Fellow Archivists:

    • Have you ever tracked a personal experiment and noticed subtle changes you might have missed if you weren’t paying attention?
    • What small improvements in your daily habits or mindset have gone uncelebrated recently?
    • How do you balance expectations with patience when trying something new?

    If you found this reflection helpful or interesting, I invite you to like, subscribe, or share it with someone who might enjoy it. Or, simply sit quietly and reflect with me—no pressure, just observation.

    Thank you for spending your time with The Stratagem’s Archive, Fellow Archivists. Your presence here matters more than you know.

    Explore The Archives

    What To Find Within The Archives

  • My Quest to Pre-GMB Certification Bio: Learning to Be Chaotic Life Strong, Not Just Gym Strong

    Author’s Note:

    For the record, GMB stands for Gold Medal Bodies — a movement-based training organization that focuses on building strength, mobility, and control that actually works in real life, not just inside a gym.

    Before I pursue their Level 1 Coach certification (because yes, I’m seriously considering it and want to level up my repertoire), I wanted to document where I’m starting from, what I’ve learned the messy way, and why this path even makes sense for someone like me.

    This is less a résumé and more a field report from the chaos trenches.

    ⸻

    Learning to Be Chaotic Life Strong, Not Athlete Strong

    I’ve had a lot of time to play with different training programs: boxing-inspired circuits, football conditioning, wrestling drills, bro-splits, calisthenics routines, you name it. My logic was simple:

    If I trained like an athlete, maybe I’d become stronger, faster, and harder to mess with — even as a regular person.

    And to be fair, I did get stronger.

    But… then real life slapped me in the face.

    I’d get winded pushing a grocery cart up a slight incline.

    I’d struggle carrying my groceries out of the cart, into the car, out of the car, up the steps, and into the house.

    I’d finish a “monster workout” only to be absolutely useless at my actual job.

    It was embarrassing, despite being the only one who knew this.

    I was young, healthy, training hard…

    And I couldn’t perform basic human tasks without feeling like I was about to collapse.

    What was wrong with me?

    Turns out nothing was “wrong.” I just discovered that the way I was training — and the way most people train — doesn’t transfer well to real life.

    That realization hit me like a medicine ball to the ribs.

    Suddenly, I had a swarm of uncomfortable questions:

    • How does bench-pressing more than my bodyweight help me haul trash bags or move boxes at work?

    • How does eating “clean” 24/7 help me reach my goals if I’m miserable, under-fueled, and ready to bite someone?

    • Why is my “gym strength” not showing up when I actually need it?

    It was distressing. Everything I “knew” about fitness felt flimsy.

    Because what if I wasn’t training for:

    • the NFL

    • the UFC

    • the Olympics

    • the military

    • or any other institution that requires an identity and lifestyle I don’t want?

    What if all I wanted was to be capable, mobile, adaptable, and strong in the weird, unpredictable ways my life expects from me?

    What then?

    That question — what then? — kickstarted five years of experimentation, logging, testing, failing, recovering, and trying again.

    Some days I trained intensely.

    Some days I did active rest.

    Some days I said “fuck this” and didn’t train for weeks.

    All of it went into the log.

    Because all of it was data.

    ⸻

    How Shows Like Physical 100 Broke My Brain (in a Good Way)

    A huge part of why I’m pursuing this style of training came from watching shows like:

    • Physical 100 (Korea)

    • Physical: Asia

    • Siren: Survive the Island

    They exposed how incomplete athletic training can be depending on the demands.

    CrossFitters struggled with grip tasks.

    Bodybuilders gassed out.

    Martial artists couldn’t always apply leverage under unusual constraints.

    People who looked like “monsters” on paper were suddenly ordinary.

    And some people — including a few women — surprised me by pushing back against bigger, stronger opponents.

    It was fascinating.

    It also validated the exact questions I’d been asking myself.

    Because even with all my job demands (heavy lifting, pushing thousands of pounds of product, long hours on my feet) I don’t think I would survive half of Physical 100’s challenges.

    But I want to.

    Not to win.

    Just to see what I’m capable of.

    Just to show up and make it difficult for someone to run me over.

    GMB’s approach — strength + mobility + control + adaptability — clicked perfectly with that goal.

    ⸻

    Why I’m Writing This as a Pre-Certification Bio

    This isn’t a “look how fit I am” intro.

    This is:

    • the starting line

    • the messy context

    • the real-life background that traditional fitness ignores

    • and the mindset behind why I want to be a coach in the first place

    I’m not trying to become an athlete.

    I’m trying to become chaotic life strong — resilient, adaptable, useful, capable in unpredictable environments, and confident in how my body moves through the world.

    And confidently push a grocery cart up the smallest of inclines too.

    GMB feels like the right framework to refine what I already know and fill in the gaps I’ve collected through years of experimenting alone.

    So this is my pre-GMB bio — where I’m coming from, what I’ve realized, and what I’m heading toward next.

    Reflection Questions for Your Own Training Journey

    Before you bounce, take a minute to check in with yourself:

    • Are you training for the life you actually live, or the life you think you should be living?

    • Do your workouts make your real-life tasks easier — or just make you tired on top of tired?

    • Where are you strong on paper but weak in practice?

    • What tasks in your daily or job life expose the gaps in your fitness?

    • What part of you wants to become “chaotic life strong” — and what’s stopping you from exploring it?

    • If you took away aesthetic goals and athlete fantasies, what kind of movement would you genuinely enjoy?

    • What skill, sport, or discipline secretly interests you but you’ve never allowed yourself to try?

    • Are you tracking the things that actually matter to you — or the things you think you’re supposed to measure?

    • What would you want your body to be capable of in the next year, if “looking fit” wasn’t even on the table?

    Answer them out loud, in a journal, or while staring at the ceiling at 2am — whatever fits your chaos.

    ⸻

    Call to Action

    If you vibed with this, learned something, or felt unusually called out in a helpful way, you can:

    • Like this post

    • Share it with someone who trains but hates the gym-robot approach

    • Subscribe to The Stratagems Archive

    • Or honestly?

    Just sit here quietly and soak in the fact that you made it all the way to the end.

    Either way, thanks for spending time in the Archives — it means more than you think.

    Now go train for the life you actually live, not the fantasy highlight reel everyone thinks they need.

    Check out My More Than Muscle Articles

    Other Pages That Might Interest You

  • 2025 is Nearly Over: What 5 Months Did to Me (And For Me)

    Another Year Coming to a Close—Let’s Look Back Before We Look Ahead

    Oh man. I can still feel the awkwardness of trying to force my blog’s identity into a “real life mastermind/villain” aesthetic.

    My fourth article—the infamous “2025 Is Nearly Over: A 6-Month Reflection & Projecting Ahead”—was my attempt to be clever, narrating like a stylish antagonist.

    What can I say? I liked fictional villains:

    Mads Mikkelsen’s Hannibal (peak elegance)

    BBC’s Moriarty (feral chaos gremlin energy)

    Garou from One Punch Man (antihero goals)

    But rereading that post now? It felt like finding an old childhood journal—full-body cringe.

    The same cringe I felt during my gamer/emo phase. (For the record: no piercings, no dyed hair, and my vampire/werewolf fascination was definitely NOT Twilight-related.)

    Here’s the thing: cringe is often just past-you doing the best you could with the tools you had. June-Me really was.

    This continuing reflection? That’s Present-Me building on top of the foundation Past-Me laid down.

    What’s Changed Since This Post?

    Well, for starters, the mastermind/villain writing aesthetic is gone. My writing no longer reads like an edge-lord making edginess their personality.

    I’ve shifted toward chronicling experiences, sharing interesting experiments, mulling “what if” scenarios, and yes—still procrastinating on folding my laundry.

    I changed my handle from Plans2Action to The Stratagem’s Archive, which felt cooler and better suited to reflecting on life while helping readers explore their own experiences as Fellow Archivists.

    And here’s the big difference: I’m not fueled by rage anymore. I’ve felt like an underdog my whole life—no talent, no skill, no charisma, just heart to keep going—but now, I’m not trying to prove anyone wrong. The people I once wanted to impress? I was chasing the wrong audience.

    I’m ugly. Bitter. Wretched.

    But also hopeful, exhausted through sheer willpower most days, and making my way through life with what I have—at a pace that doesn’t burn me out, doesn’t make me hate myself, and allows me to enjoy the frustrating process along the way.

    Things Still Feel Surreal Months Into 2025

    I still can’t believe how much The Stratagem’s Archive grew. It started as a way to get thoughts out of my head before they rotted. Now:

    And all of this is something Past-Me would never believe possible.

    It’s not just the blog that’s grown. I’ve grown too:

    • Renting my own studio
    • Managing my money and building for my future
    • Feeling at home being asexual
    • Navigating friendships with clear boundaries
    • Making my own map of life instead of blindly following someone else’s blueprint

    Younger me would never have imagined this life. And yet, here I am—living life my way, not punishing myself for unconventional choices, and enjoying the messy journey.

    What’s Next, Moving Towards 2026?

    Ain’t that the question we ask every new year? New Year’s resolutions, envy, self-doubt, the constant “am I doing enough?”

    I don’t know what’s next. Maybe I won’t have a corner office. Maybe I won’t run a Spartan race. Maybe I’ll learn Korean just to try something fun. Who knows?

    What I do know: I’ll keep working on The Stratagem’s Archive, posting when I can—not chasing numbers like an addict—living life, writing, training, exploring, and seeing what else life offers.

    Reflective Questions for Fellow Archivists

    Looking back, what part of your past-you makes you cringe but also feel grateful?

    Which accomplishments in the last months are invisible but meaningful to you?

    If the next 5 months were yours to design, without limits, what would you focus on?

    Thank You, Fellow Archivists

    Whether you silently follow, like, comment, or share, thank you for spending your time here. Your presence, curiosity, and engagement—however big or small—are what make this archive worthwhile.

    Here’s to 2026: one reflection, experiment, and late-night thought at a time.

    Check Out The Archives Below:

  • Now Noticing November: Reflections on Urges, Awareness, and Myself

    This November, explore “Now Noticing November”—a mindful, judgment-free take on urges, sexual energy, and self-awareness.

    A personal reflection from a 29-year-old asexual woman offering a fresh perspective beyond No Nut November and No Fap.

    Author’s Note / Friendly Heads-Up:

    Hey! This post comes from my perspective as a 29-year-old asexual woman thinking too deeply about urges, curiosity, and intimacy.

    Nothing graphic here—just honest reflections. Some bits mention masturbation or sexual energy, which might feel a little uncomfortable depending on your own experiences.

    That’s okay. Just a heads-up before you dive in.

    A Different Perspective

    Women’s voices on this stuff are rare online. So if this feels a little different, that’s on purpose. Welcome to my corner of the internet—you don’t have to perform, compare, or apologize for being here.

    We’re all exploring together, each on our own journey. The Stratagems Archive is a safe place to reflect.

    Flipping the Script

    I didn’t plan to write about No Nut November (NNN) or No Fap. Honestly, I thought about it because of a morning when I felt unusually aroused—an intensity that came up without any prompting.

    But instead of following the usual rules or shame-driven narratives, I decided to observe, reflect, and write from my own experience.

    This aligns with how I process boundaries, consent, and trust—like in this post about From Video Game Chaos to Personal Growth: How Huniepop and Thought Experiments Made Me Think Too Hard (And That’s Okay)

    Here, I’m giving NNN/No Fap the middle finger—for being ironically rigid, morally loaded, and often harmful.

    Let’s go.

    My Approach

    This November, I’m paying attention—not to a challenge, not to a goal—but to what’s happening inside me.

    I notice tension in my body, subtle urges in my stomach and legs. My mind doesn’t demand release; it quietly asks, “Are you aware of me?”

    Years ago, I tried the standard challenges. Two months without acting on urges as a young adult.

    Did I become stronger, more productive, or fulfilled? Not really. I just felt guilty when I gave in and frustrated when I didn’t.

    I was still stuck in a dead-end job, carrying debt, and hating life because some “rule” told me what I shouldn’t do.

    Now? I notice. I sit with it. I let the feeling rise, fade, or linger—without judgment or urgency. Sometimes I call these urges “energy.”

    Energy I redirect into reading, journaling, working out, writing, or exploring fictional vignettes of intimacy and trust—safe spaces to explore curiosity without harming myself or anyone else.

    Awareness Over Rules

    The loud online NNN/No Fap narratives are full of instructions, memes, and ego-fueled comparisons. Strip that away, and you find something much more interesting: awareness.

    • Awareness of your body.
    • Awareness of your thoughts.
    • Awareness of your own patterns.

    This awareness doesn’t need to shame you. It doesn’t need to make you better than anyone else. It just makes you better for yourself.

    Reflections for You

    Take a moment to reflect—no pressure, no trends, just noticing:

    • Have you tried NNN or No Fap?
    • How did it make you feel—physically, mentally, emotionally?
    • Did you tie abstinence to productivity or self-improvement?
    • Or did you simply notice what your body and mind were doing?
    • What did you learn about yourself when you gave in, held back, or simply sat with your urges without judgment?

    This November, I’m not participating in No Nut November or No Fap. I’m not abstaining to prove anything or to strangers who I don’t rightly know. I’m simply noticing—my urges, my reflections, my curiosity.

    If you’re a Fellow weary Archivist, tired of being told there’s only one right way to handle your body, mind, or habits, I invite you to pause, reflect, and reclaim that space for yourself. You don’t need to follow the trend, the meme, or the challenge. You can simply notice.

    Sometimes the most radical thing you can do is give yourself permission to pay attention—to your body, your mind, and your own journey—without judgment or competition.

    Share Your Thoughts

    If this post speaks to you, feel free to:

    • Like.
    • Subscribe.
    • Share.
    • Reflect quietly.

    Leave a comment below or message me directly at whatimtryingoutnow@gmail.com. I read everything and will get back to you if you’d like to discuss this further.

    Thank you for spending your time in the archives. I hope you leave noticing something new about yourself today.

  • Looking Towards The Future—Learning How to Live Life Defined My Way

    Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here

    What Am I Supposed to Look Forward to When Life’s Been Sprinting Forever?

    I’ve been noticing how things have been shifting for me. Not just with my blog, The Stratagem’s Archive, but in my life as well.

    I started this blog from a place of rage, spite, and the feeling that life wasn’t worth living anymore — because it seemed like I had nothing of my own.

    My money, time, energy, sleep, hobbies, and interests all felt borrowed, taken, or otherwise out of my control.

    Work, personal obligations, appointments, family get-togethers every week… life kept running while I struggled just to catch my breath.

    Every day felt as though I was Bound by Compulsion: The Hidden Cost of Rituals We Can’t Escape, and I could feel myself seemingly losing what control I did have left.

    I kept asking myself, Is this it? Is this what life’s supposed to feel like — running until there’s nothing left?

    If that’s all life had to offer, then holy shit… that really sucks.

    Every day was exhausting, infuriating, and lonely. I tried so hard not to give in to my anger and despair — to keep surviving — because, somewhere, I had to draw the line in the sand. I didn’t want to die.

    I just wanted the weight of feeling like a failure, like I was perpetually behind, to lift.

    And now, four months into building The Stratagem’s Archive, after over 115 posts reflecting, collecting, and articulating thoughts and emotions I had tried to silence until they imploded on me, I find myself… wanting to live.

    But here’s the kicker — how do I start actually living?

    I Started Learning to Live From a Personal Finance Book—Of All Places!

    In a twist I didn’t see coming, the guidance I needed didn’t come from therapy or self-help blogs — it came from a personal finance book: I Will Teach You to Be Rich: Journal.

    This is what the book looks like if anyone wants to get their own physical copy.

    I’ve shared how I’m tackling my personal debt using the IWT method in my earlier post, Eradicating A Burden: Eliminating Personal Debt to Ascend:.

    This is the book I bought in 2019 and FINALLY read in 2023. 2023 was the year I got my financial shit together.

    [Note: I Am NOT AN AFFILIATE—I Found These Books Helpful, and Hope It Helps Someone Else Too.]

    I made some financial choices to use my credit cards and take out a few personal loans to help my parents out. But I don’t regret helping them. I regret not having the money on hand to avoid the debts entirely, but here I am.

    Anyways, when my Ma told me about the new journal version, I bought two. Its prompts helped me start answering the questions I hadn’t allowed myself to ask: What do I want? How do I want to live my life?

    Even though I’m still paying down my debts — my high-APR credit card will be gone in the next two months, and my personal loan in twelve — the journal allowe me to briefly imagine what life could be like once the shackles are gone.

    What Does Living Outside of Crippling Debt Look Like?

    The beauty of the journal is that it doesn’t give answers — it asks questions.

    For example: “What would you do if you came into $100? $1,000?”

    My mind immediately wandered to freedom: $100 to treat my family to a nice meal, $1,000 divided between debt repayment, emergency funds, family treats, small indulgences for myself, and a little extra to share.

    Money is a tool. It allows me to live independently, feed myself, take my parents or grandma out to breakfast, and rest with the quiet knowledge that my choices are securing my present and future. It offers brief glimpses of what life could look like outside of mere survival.

    Living Life One Inch at a Time

    And that’s the lesson I’m taking from all of this: living doesn’t start with a huge dramatic moment. It starts with creating small acts of breathing room.

    I get to say, “I can take care of myself.”

    I get to choose, “I get to rest.”

    I get to finally accept, “I get to make choices that feel right for me.”

    I’m not fully out of the tunnel. I still wake up tired. I still get frustrated at work and dread my Mondays. I still drag pieces of my old, broke, anxious self with me some days.

    But now I’m asking different questions:

    • What if life isn’t supposed to feel like a sprint?
    • What if I can slow down and still move forward?
    • What if living starts before the finish line — not after it?

    I don’t have all the answers. I don’t need them all at once. Right now, it’s enough to know that life doesn’t feel like everything’s going to collapse anymore. It feels like possibility — small, stubborn, quiet possibility.

    Reflection Questions for You

    Here, let’s reflect quietly together, even if it’s just you and your screen. Tell me, yourself, write it down, or let your imagination wander without shoving it back down like you’ve committed a crime.

    • What would it feel like to live life on your own terms, even in small ways?
    • Where in your life could you carve out breathing room today?
    • If survival were taken care of, what would you do with your time, energy, and resources?

    A Gentle Call to Action

    If you’ve spent time here — reading, reflecting, pausing with me — thank you. Truly. Thank you for giving a moment of your life to The Stratagem’s Archive.

    If this piece resonated, consider liking, sharing, or subscribing so other fellow wandering, weary, or wondering archivists can find it too.

    Or simply sit quietly with it, reflect, and carry your own thoughts forward.

    If you want to share them, the comments are open, or you can reach out anonymously via email, whatimtryingoutnow@gmail.com.

    There’s no obligation — just space to leave a trace of your own journey.

    Life doesn’t start when the sprint ends.

    It starts the moment we allow ourselves to imagine something better, inch by inch.

    Explore The Archives

    What You’ll Find If You Become a Fellow Archivist

  • When The Highs of Writing and Publishing Fade—How I’m Keeping The Stratagem’s Archive Alive

    Facing the Fade: When Creative Highs Decline

    Maybe I didn’t take enough time to truly listen to the void. Since publishing The Void Feels Like It’s Closing In and What If Everything Just Stopped? What’s Next for The Stratagem’s Archives?, I stepped away from writing for a bit—but not long enough.

    Back when I wrote from rage, spite, and stubborn determination, I had:

    • A goal
    • A sense of direction
    • A sense of accomplishment
    • A wealth of ideas to explore

    Now, the silence feels deafening. I don’t feel the same compulsion to write, and my mind struggles to find creative inspiration. It’s the shadow I’ve always feared: creative stagnation.

    Reframing Stagnation

    Creative stagnation isn’t failure—it’s a signal. It’s an energy shift and a call to evolve. The Stratagem’s Archive has taught me patience, consistency, and self-reflection. It’s a space where my words reached people across the void, across countries, and into the wider internet.

    Now, I need to face the new reality: keeping this blog alive while honoring my own creative energy, without burning out.

    Adapting: New Rules for Creativity

    Since I’m no longer fueled by rage alone, I’m making adjustments:

    1)Pause for planning: Instead of publishing for streaks, I’ll take the time to think about what to write, why it matters, and how it connects to my growth.

    2)Refocus energy: My attention goes to creating content that’s meaningful, not just consistent.

    3)Experiment and reflect: Using my downtime to explore new topics, styles, and formats to keep the archive fresh and alive.

    The goal isn’t perfection—it’s sustainable growth, just like I’ve applied to my life outside of writing.

    Growth Beyond the Void

    Writing this blog has been a journey of self-discovery, persistence, and reflection. Losing the compulsion that drove me at first is uncomfortable—but it’s also a chance to grow differently.

    The highs fade, but the archive remains, waiting for me to approach it with renewed perspective. The challenge now is curiosity, patience, and intention.

    Call to Reflect

    If you’ve ever faced creative burnout, writer’s block, or the fear of stagnation, remember: it’s not failure. It’s a reset. A pause. A chance to approach your craft with fresh eyes.

    Question for you: How do you keep creating when the passion fades? What small rituals, shifts, or reflections help you stay engaged?

    Share in the comments or connect with me through the archive—your insight might help someone else push through their own creative fade.

    Call-to-Action

    If this post resonated, hit that like button, subscribe for more reflections from The Stratagem’s Archive, or share it with someone who might need a reminder that creative fades are part of growth. Let’s keep leveling up together—IRL and in writing.

    More Posts to Explore

    Challenge Unlocked: Taking a 24 Hour Break From Writing (and My Blog Stats)

    The 24-Hour Challenge Aftermath—Something Unexpected Happened in Just One Night

    Error 404: Last Save Point Not Found—From 60 Consecutive Days Back to 1

    The Experimental Pride of the Archives

  • From Leveling Up in Games to Leveling Up IRL: What Elden Ring (and Soulsborne Games) Taught Me About Growth

    Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here

    How The Journey Began

    As a kid, I used to dive into video games not just for fun — but for escape. Video games were stories I couldn’t explore in real life. I preferred leveling up my characters, exploring epic worlds, unlocking new abilities, and compelling stories.

    It felt good to grow, even if it was only on-screen. What I didn’t realize back then was that I was building the blueprint for how I’d eventually grow in real life.

    Games like Elden Ring, Bloodborne, and Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice have done more for me than just fill time — they’ve challenged me, shaped me, and slowly helped me believe that I could grow, not just in-game… but as a person.

    My Childhood: Escape Was Growth

    When I was younger, I didn’t think I was smart enough, strong enough, or confident enough to handle the real world. Trial and error felt too risky in real life and criticisms felt like real physical damage—especially if personal resources weren’t aplenty.

    So I turned to video games as my main source of escape.

    In those digital worlds, failure was temporary, and effort was always rewarded. I could try, and I could improve — without judgment, fear of failure, and tools to increase EXP and skills faster than in real life.

    Games gave me what school, social life, and expectations couldn’t: a space where I could grow at my own pace.

    As silly as it might seem, I found something valuable from being a gamer that I didn’t bother to find in real life: tools and lessons in disguise.

    It took me over 10 years to see what I was blind to and, what I was doing in my games, I could have applied the same effort in real life.

    Adulthood: Facing Reality (With Gaming EXP)

    Fast-forward to the present — living on my own, juggling two jobs, exhausted and worn down as hell, but still alive and kicking. Then, suddenly, I starting to see it:

    The way I’ve been playing in Elden Ring, how it pushes me to improve and try again, in a small way, is how I show up in my own life.

    In Elden Ring, I do complain, I rage when my character dies — either I wasn’t paying attention, I died to a boss enemy, or got impatient and the game had to put me in my place — I make mistakes. While I did give up initially, I grew comfortable with the constant failures because I could try again — with a new approach.

    That’s not just a gaming mindset. That’s applicable to real life as well.

    Growth Lessons From Elden Ring and Other Soulsborn Games

    I used to hate how difficult Elden Ring was because it had no difficulty setting you could change it to. It punished those who would like to coast in the game. But now I appreciate it — because it forced me to learn, adapt, and evolve.

    Just like life does.

    And honestly? That’s been a gift. The game rewards me when I’m patient. It punishes me when I rush. It makes me earn every inch of progress — and that’s made every victory feel earned, not given.

    Life has a similar, uncanny innate mechanism to FromSoft’s games. You can try something, fail at it, or rise from the supposed failures life threw at you—just like The Tarnished, The Hunter, and Wolf do after every defeat.

    The rise again and we can do the same if we choose to.

    While I know that I don’t have a grand objective like these protagonists—become the Elden Lord, hunt monsters, or save my liege from imprisonment—the beauty of our lives is we get to choose our own objectives, lessons, successes, and how we approach failure.

    The Biggest Lesson: I’m Capable of Growth Outside of the Games

    For most of my life, I didn’t think I could improve. I thought that I was born a failure and that my lot in life was because I didn’t win the supposed “lottery” at birth. But these games showed me that I could — through persistence, strategy, and self-reflection—do and be better.

    I just have to apply the same methodology to everything else in my life:

    After work has finished and I’m safe at home, I take stock of what happened in the day. I do my best not to spazz out when things go wrong — I slow down and observe to the best of my abilities, and make due with what I have. Even if it’s not a success, as long as I wake up, I can keep trying again and again until I can’t.

    In life, I don’t fear failure the same way I used — I know it’s part of the process. It’s part of earning EXP. Even in writing this blog, I’m leveling up — using trial and error, not waiting to be perfect, but just good enough in my own eyes.

    In Conclusion – Call to Reflect

    Tell me, Fellow Archivists,

    • “What lessons have your favorite games taught you about life? How have you applied them outside of the screen?”
    • Which in-game failures taught you the most about resilience?”
    • “How do you turn lessons from games into real-life progress?”

    Level Up With Me

    If this post resonated, consider pressing “like” to unlock a little XP for the archive, subscribe to keep up with my ongoing quest, or share with fellow archivists who might benefit from these lessons.

    Every click, share, or follow is like finding a hidden item chest — it helps this little corner of the internet keep growing and reaching others leveling up alongside us.

    Games As IRL Preparation

    If you’re someone who’s ever felt like real-life growth was out of reach… I get it. I lived that. But maybe the hours you’ve spent getting destroyed by Malenia Blade of Miquella, failing to parry Genichiro Ashina, or escaping the nightmare streets of Yharnam weren’t a waste of time.

    Maybe they were preparation.

    You were learning how to fall, how to rise, how to be patient with your own evolution. That counts for something — maybe even everything.

    This space is for the weary, the wondering, and the wandering. I’m not here to teach—just to share what I’m learning, while I’m still in it. Read quietly, reflect deeply, or share if it speaks to you.

    Sharing opens the path to others like us to find this little pocket of the internet. No pressure. Just presence.

    You can check out my other video game inspired works down below:

    Learning to Pick Locks Like In Video Games

    Achievement Unlocked: My First Lock Opened

    The Moment I Stopped Waiting for Permission

    The Stratagem’s Archive: You Begin Here:

    Thank You For Reaching the End

    You can preview what fellow subscribers can get first in their inboxes before everyone else as thank you for reading all the way to the end, for spending some time here, and leveling up together.

  • Error 404: Last Save Point Not Found—From 60 Consecutive Days Back to 1

    Does Starting Over Have to Suck?

    When I published a few days ago,What If Everything Just Stopped? What’s Next for The Stratagem’s Archives?, I wondered what my next move should be—things were changing, evolving, and the closer I got to completing my personal goals, the more uncertain it felt.

    I hadn’t felt compelled, fueled by that stubborn rage to write, since hitting Day 60 of my publishing streak. After reaching Day 63, my mind quieted, my emotions found a fragile equilibrium.

    Early this morning, I published a new post, expecting to see the Day 64 streak notification on Jetpack’s homepage. I didn’t. I realized that because I had stepped away for one full day, my streak had reset to zero.

    It mattered. Those streaks weren’t arbitrary—they were medals, proof that I showed up, that I pushed through exhaustion, guilt, bitterness, and the darker voices that used to push me toward harming myself. They were proof that I survived one more day of feeling small in a world that often doesn’t care what you do, as long as you keep giving until there’s nothing left.

    As a gamer, the closest analogy I have is this: losing a streak felt worse than discovering a beloved game file was corrupted. Not a “new game” choice, one you pick intentionally.

    A corrupted file is beyond your control—everything you’ve built, collected, and earned is gone, and you’re forced to start over.

    That’s how losing my two-month streak felt. Except I wasn’t starting blind this time. I carried my experience, my knowledge, and my reflections into this new chapter of life. It was terrifying, but also… liberating.

    Starting over didn’t feel explosive or loud. It was quiet, subtle, and unsettling, like flipping to a new chapter in a book without realizing that something inside me had already shifted.

    After losing my streak, I had to pause and ask myself: does starting over have to suck?

    Not just with publishing, but with every aspect of life—The Stratagems Archive, my career, my personal growth, my goals.

    My time away from writing wasn’t about punishment or frustration; it was about listening.

    Listening to the void and the quiet, to understand why silence—after years of relying on rage and compulsion to motivate myself—scares me, yet keeps me grounded.

    I’m learning I don’t have to build myself or my space out of survival anymore. I’ve already proven I can show up for myself. People have invested their time in reading what I create, quietly sitting with it, and that is validation enough.

    I can show up because I choose to, not because I have to.

    Maybe starting over isn’t a punishment at all. Maybe it’s just the next save point I didn’t recognize yet.

    Reflection For You, Fellow Archivists:

    How often do we mistake starting over for failure, when it might just be an opportunity to bring what we’ve learned into a new chapter?

    Call to Action:

    If you’ve ever had to start over—whether in work, relationships, or personal goals—take a moment to reflect on what you’re bringing forward.

    Share your thoughts below, or jot them in a journal.

    Starting over doesn’t erase what you’ve built; it amplifies the wisdom you already carry.

    Other Void Related Reflections:

    Thank You For Making It to the End

    Here are some of the projects I’ve made during my time writing. Below are: 2 manifestos, 1 ebook manifesto, sticker designs, and a hoodie design, you could explore. Thank you for making it to the end of this post. I’ll see you all in the archives later.

  • The Void Feels Like It’s Closing In

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

    When I first wrote this, I was so excited that the light I was flashing into the void was reflecting back — that the quiet whispers I uttered in the dark were slowly being heard. People were reading the things I wrote about, and I felt confident to keep publishing, developing my own voice, and seeing where The Stratagem’s Archive could go.

    Every post, every thought, every hit to the publish button was an experiment — trial and error, but in a safer way, with low stakes but high personal rewards.

    Now, the excitement feels darker. Colder. As though the void is done playing games and is closing in on me.

    No matter how much evidence I’ve built, collected, no matter how much progress I’ve made — 100+ posts, 4 newsletters, 4 sticker designs, 2 manifestos, 1 ebook manifesto, 1 personal hoodie, and 10 very much appreciated subscribers — this brick of doubt is difficult to fight.

    Even with all the rage and restlessness I have, I can’t use the same energy to uproot this doubt like ripping out a weed or walking away from bad friendships.

    That’s the shitty thing about doubt; once it gets its claws into you, the void knows it has control over you. It can corrupt your mind with simple, innocent-sounding questions:

    “What do you have to show for yourself after all this time?”

    Maybe I’ve Outgrown a Part of Myself

    This doubt is familiar, to be honest. I felt it when I hyper-analyzed my decision to walk away from people who didn’t value me, when I permanently deleted apps I didn’t use, when I let go of the “just in case” excuses I leaned on for so long.

    I knew parts of me needed to die as I pushed forward and shed burdens off my plate. It’s possible the void feels like it’s closing in because it’s saying I’ve outgrown something.

    The problem?

    I don’t know what I outgrew.

    I started writing for me — to get every thought out of my head and into the world. If people read it, liked it, shared it, or even subscribed, that was a bonus.

    Now? It feels different. Off. I can’t explain it, but I wish I could.

    I don’t know what topics excite me anymore. I don’t know what moves me. I feel emptier than angry and restless. I feel like a fraud, and I can see the end of the life I want — free from financial burdens, full of chosen creative work, less stressed — but the path to it has blurred.

    I feel stuck, like Alice in Wonderland. I could pick any road and still reach where I need to go, yet every choice feels like a trap. Each decision feels like a noose.

    What Now?

    I don’t have answers yet. What I do know is that I don’t want to be invisible anymore. I don’t want to be ignored, and my mind refuses to accept that small progress is still progress.

    But maybe the void isn’t the enemy. Maybe it’s space being cleared for the next version of myself. Maybe what feels like silence is just a new beginning taking shape.

    Maybe I don’t need to fight the void this time.

    Maybe I just need to stop shouting into it, and start listening.

    A Reflection for You

    If you’ve ever felt like your creative work, your efforts, or your life in general were disappearing into a void — you’re not alone. Maybe it’s not failure. Maybe it’s growth disguised as emptiness.

    Take a breath. Look at everything you have done, no matter how small it feels. You’ve built something, even if it’s invisible to the world right now. You’ve shown up. You’ve persisted.

    And maybe that’s enough to start listening to what comes next.

    Call to Action

    If this post resonated with you: sit with it quietly, reflect on your own journey, and take a moment to honor yourself. Or, if you know someone who might be feeling this way, share it with them.

    You can also:

    • Like if you’ve ever felt the void closing in.
    • Subscribe to follow along as I figure this out alongside you.
    • Share this post if it might help someone else in the same place.

    Even small acts of acknowledgment matter. Even small lights can push back against the 

    Other Reflections

    Here you could check out how these thoughts started and progressed over time. Showcasing how this isn’t a one off thought, but an ever present and persistent one.

    Thanks For Making it This Far

    Here are the evidence, my little artifacts that I’ve made over these past few months. Every piece a beginning, the first footprint marked in the sand, and with room to grow. They’re my way of saying thanks for making it to the end and feel free to check them out.

    Feedback is much appreciated as I’m in this weird limbo right now. I got no idea what’s up from down, left from right, but all of this is here for your viewing irregardless of my current suspension.