The Stratagem’s Archive

Category: Reflections and Realizations

  • Before You Celebrate Your First 100 Downloads, Read This

    I thought my writing was finally reaching people. My metrics told a different story.

    I’ve been writing on WordPress for about 8 months now — still a baby writer — and in that time I’ve published 7 PDFs.

    Five of them were personal reflections. Two were fitness-related, based on how I personally trained over 280+ weeks.

    Over the last 7 months, I watched my total PDF download count steadily climb to nearly 190.

    As a new writer, I was shocked.

    I’ve never thought anything I’ve made actually resonated with other people online — so seeing those numbers go up month after month felt like proof that maybe my work was finally landing somewhere.

    I let myself feel hopeful.

    I thought:
    “People are choosing to download this.”

    There was just one problem.

    While my PDFs were being downloaded consistently, my blog views, visitors, likes, shares, and subscribers weren’t following the same trajectory.

    If nearly 200 people downloaded my work, why wasn’t anything else moving?

    • No increase in followers.
    • No comments.
    • No returning visitors.
    • No meaningful time spent on the blog itself.

    Just… downloads.

    At first, I told myself that maybe the people downloading my PDFs were just hard to track.

    Maybe they were using private browsers.
    Maybe they were in incognito mode.
    Maybe they were behind VPNs.
    Maybe they opened the PDF offline after downloading it.

    In my head, these were real people — just statistically invisible ones.

    But over time, I learned something I didn’t expect as a new creator:

    Downloads don’t always mean readers.

    Bots crawl websites constantly. They scan pages, follow links, and yes — they can download files like PDFs. Sometimes it’s for indexing. Sometimes it’s for scraping content. Sometimes it’s automated vulnerability checks.

    And they don’t just stop at your blog.

    I noticed that even my Ko-fi page — where I keep my other creative work like sticker designs, D&D story expansions, and concept art — had a few external views that I couldn’t account for.

    Before, I assumed those were curious people checking out my work.

    Now, I’m not so sure.

    Coming to this realization forced me to separate what the numbers were showing me from the story I wanted them to mean.

    So now, when I check my stats, I try to keep a few things in mind:

    • A download is not the same as a read.
    • Traffic is not the same as engagement.
    • And early growth isn’t always human.

    Despite everything that’s happened, my stubbornness would let me pause for a moment, then have me keep publishing. Even when engagement and views are quiet.

    Since I don’t have advanced analytical tools for my blog, I, The Archivist, will never know for sure if anything happened on my blog was due to a person or a bot.

    If you’re a new writer watching your download count rise faster than anything else — celebrate carefully.

    Make sure your reality isn’t running ahead of your assumptions.

    That doesn’t mean your work doesn’t matter.

    It means that when you’re starting out, your metrics can’t be your only source of truth.

    If you’re early in your writing or creative work and your numbers don’t seem to match — don’t immediately assume you’ve failed, and don’t immediately assume you’ve “made it” either.

    Look for signals that are harder to fake:

    Someone spending time on your page.
    Someone clicking through to another post.
    Someone subscribing.
    Someone replying, sharing, or bookmarking your work.

    Even one real person choosing to stay is more meaningful than 50 automated downloads that never read a word.

    I’m still new at this. I’m still figuring out what real engagement looks like.

    But I’d rather build something slowly with honest signals than rush to celebrate numbers I don’t fully understand.

    If you’re building too — keep going.

    Just make sure you know what you’re actually measuring.

    Explore The Archives:

    Here are a few articles about other things I’ve written over time:

    If You Made It to The End

    I support this work myself. If you found value in it and want to help keep it available, optional support is here 🌊.
    I’m making a sticker design based on my Chaotic Life Strong PDFs. This is what the draft looks like as of right now.

    My Chaotic Life Strong inspired sticker draft

    If you’re curious to see what the end result will look like and would like to have a copy, check out my Ko-fi page by waving below. It’s my secondary creative archive.

    Tiny Wave 👋

    No pressure—just a way for me to say thank you for spending time with The Archives.

    Otherwise, I’ll see you all later in The Archives.

  • 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

  • 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:

  • From Video Game Chaos to Personal Growth: How Huniepop and Thought Experiments Made Me Think Too Hard (And That’s Okay)

    Content Note:

    This post discusses personal reflections on emotional intimacy, asexuality, and boundary-setting through a fictional lens. It references an adult video game (Huniepop), but the focus is on humanizing characters and self-reflection, not sexual content. Reader discretion is advised if these topics may be sensitive.

    Introduction

    I’ve written before about how Elden Ring and other Soulsborne games helped me reflect on personal growth, resilience, and emotional exploration in this post below.

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

    But recently, I realized that an entirely different kind of game—an adult puzzle/relationship game called Huniepop—gave me an equally valuable lens for reflection.

    For those unfamiliar: Huniepop is a dating puzzle game released in 2015 (with sequels later). It mixes “match-three” puzzle mechanics with dating-sim elements and features exaggerated, sexualized characters.

    Its reputation is comedic and adult-oriented—you may have seen YouTubers like Markiplier, CinnamonToastKen, or PewDiepie play it years ago. I played it too, as a dumb 17-year-old college student. Don’t judge me.

    Over the years, my mind used the cast of characters to explore something far beyond the game’s intended mechanics.

    I asked: “What if these characters were humanized, beyond the tropes and commodified portrayals? What would their lives be like if they existed in a world beyond their scripted roles?”

    How a Spanish Class Story Sparked a 10-Year Experiment

    Before I dive deeper into Huniepop, I have to confess how this all started. In high school, during Spanish class, a boy I was on the wrestling team with, told me about how he dated eight different girls at the same time.

    He knew their schedules intimately, and then—predictably—he got caught. One by one, the girls found out, chased him, and beat him up at school. He told me it “straightened him out,” and he ended up being faithful to his girlfriend.

    I nodded along, reading my Inkheart book, taking it at face value—but for some reason, that story lodged itself in my mind.

    When the Huniepop game came out, I imagined being a bystander, watching the women chase the guy who played them down, cheering as the girls taught him a lesson, jumping and screaming: “Fuck, yeah! That’s what you get, asshole!”

    Over the next ten years, that tiny story became part of my mental sandbox. When Huniepop came along, I folded it into the thought experiment: what would happen if one “player” was interacting with eight characters, and they all found out? How would they react? Could the consequences be just?

    What started as a goofy, high-school mental scenario slowly evolved into a tool for reflecting on empathy, justice, and emotional consequences.

    I wasn’t just fantasizing about drama—I was practicing perspective-taking, ethics, and understanding human behavior in a safe, imaginative way.

    The “What If?” Questions

    For over 10 years, I’ve had conversations in my head with the entire Huniepop cast—not for sexual purposes, but as a way to explore human behavior, curiosity, and morality.

    These mental thought experiments imagined the characters as real people with wants, flaws, and histories. I let them grow beyond their archetypes and asked myself how they would handle trust, consent, safety, and emotional connection.

    A few months ago, I also learned that I am asexual. I didn’t want to “sleep” with these characters, nor to be them—I wanted something deeper than skin-deep connection.

    My mind “thinking too hard” about their lives became a kind of accidental therapy. By imagining these scenarios, I could practice empathy, reflect on my boundaries, and examine what I truly wanted from relationships—all without risking harm in the real world.

    Jessie Maye: A Mirror for Growth

    One character, Jessie Maye, became particularly significant. Comparing her first iteration from 2013 to her second in 2021 gave me a profound perspective on growth:

    2015 Jessie: A 36-year-old adult film actress, relatively well-known, the “cougar” archetype. She separated the women and men from the girls/boys. In-game dialogue changes depending on whether you play as a male or female character.

    2021 Jessie: A 38-year-old who has aged out of her industry, tired, seeking genuine connection beyond performance or appearance. She wanted to be valued for her flaws and strengths, not just for what she did or could give.

    There’s a fragility beneath her deflecting exterior—whether I imagined it or the voice actress helped me sense it, it felt real.

    Her evolution mirrored my own experiences. Watching Jessie “grow” in my imagination allowed me to reflect on my own emotional development, my desire for safe intimacy, and my approach to giving and receiving care.

    Jessie became a safe space for practicing emotional closeness. She allowed me to explore what it felt like to be emotionally intimate without sexual expectation, and to recognize the difference between being wanted and being valued.

    Accidental Therapy

    This mental exploration wasn’t something I planned—it was an accident of curiosity. But it worked:

    Emotional arousal can exist separately from sexual desire. My body and heart respond to safety, trust, and being seen. I began to untangle old patterns from friendships where my boundaries were ignored or my value was reduced to what I could give.

    All this came from engaging with fictional characters thoughtfully—taking their “what if” potential seriously, and letting my brain explore the consequences of safe, consensual, and humanized interactions.

    Connection to Real Life

    The lessons I drew from this adult game aren’t about sex—they’re about ethical curiosity, emotional safety, and human growth.

    By thinking critically and empathetically about fictional characters, I strengthened my understanding of my own needs:

    I value safety and consent over obligation or expectation. Emotional closeness matters more than physical closeness alone. Boundaries are essential for healthy growth. Curiosity, reflection, and imagination can help me process complex feelings in ways real-world interactions sometimes can’t.

    Even in a world filled with people who often misunderstood or misused me, I could practice connection safely, intentionally, and without shame.

    Reflections

    Games—regardless of genre or rating—can teach us about ourselves. Fictional characters can be mirrors for empathy, self-reflection, and emotional growth. Thinking deeply, asking “what if,” and exploring consequences mentally can be a form of self-therapy. There’s no shame in using unconventional tools to learn about human complexity.

    “Curiosity and imagination can be as powerful as real-world experience in teaching us about trust, boundaries, and emotional intimacy.”

    Closing Thoughts

    Huniepop gave me an unexpected gift: a safe, imaginative space to explore emotional connection, trust, and being seen. It reminded me that growth can come from anywhere—even small, guilty pleasures—if approached thoughtfully.

    I’m no longer ashamed of my curiosity or the places my mind wanders. Reflection doesn’t have to follow convention to be valuable, and self-discovery can arrive in unexpected forms.

    Reflection Questions for Readers

    • Have you ever used a game or fictional story to explore emotional growth or ethical reflection?
    • How do you differentiate between being wanted and being valued in your own life?
    • Can imaginary or symbolic relationships serve as tools for safe self-exploration?
    • Where might curiosity and reflection help you understand your own emotional needs?

    A Note of Gratitude and Invitation

    Thank you for spending your time here with The Stratagem’s Archive. If this post made you pause, think, or reflect—whether silently or aloud—know that you are not alone. Somewhere, a Fellow Archivist might be experiencing similar confusion, curiosity, or guardedness—and they don’t have to face it alone.

    If this post resonated, feel free to like, share, subscribe, or simply sit quietly and reflect. Your presence here matters.

    You can share your thoughts in the comments or anonymously to whatimtryingoutnow@gmail.com. I’ll read everything, but responding will be a different matter and much slower, but no less grateful despite my slow reply time.

    Gifts From The Archive

  • 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

  • What If Everything Just Stopped? What’s Next for The Stratagem’s Archives?

    What Direction Will This Go?

    That’s been the question — one of many — I’ve been wrestling with since publishing The Void Feels Like It’s Closing In. It’s only been a full 24 hours since that post, but when your mind never rests, it can feel like days of circling the same thoughts.

    Lately, I’ve felt frustrated. Not because I’m unhappy with The Stratagem’s Archive or what I’ve built here — far from it. I’ve written every day, fought for every minute I could spare, and turned stubborn rage into creation. But now, the spark that once drove me feels dim.

    The words still come, but they don’t echo anymore.

    It’s not a lack of ideas. I have more than enough of those. It’s that I don’t feel excited to write them. I’ve been walking the same path, and the scenery hasn’t changed. I don’t like the current trajectory. I don’t like how it feels to move without wonder.

    In The Void Feels Like It’s Closing In, I wrote about shining light into emptiness — shouting into the void and getting nothing back. That feeling hasn’t gone away. The progress has slowed, the spark has dulled, and I’ve begun to wonder:

    What if I stopped shouting? What if I just listened instead?

    Maybe that’s what I need. Not more words.

    But silence sturdy enough to hold the ones I’ll write next.

    I don’t know how long I’ll step away, or what form The Stratagem’s Archive will take when I return. But I know this much: what got me this far can’t take me further. And that’s okay. Growth often begins where repetition ends.

    This isn’t the end. It’s a pause — a necessary one.

    To everyone who has read, shared, subscribed, or quietly returned to read again: thank you. Every click, every like, every minute you’ve given me has meant more than you know. I didn’t think anyone would ever find this little corner of mine, but I’m glad to have been proven wrong.

    While I won’t be posting for a while, I’ll still be around the archives — cleaning, updating, and letting the silence settle in for once. Maybe in that quiet, I’ll finally hear what comes next.

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

    Reflection Question for Readers

    When was the last time you stopped creating, chasing, or producing — and simply listened to what silence was trying to tell you?

    Call to Action

    If you’ve been following The Stratagem’s Archive, consider liking, sharing, subscribing, sitting quietly, or revisiting your favorite posts while I’m away.

    Leave a comment about what post resonated most with you — your reflections help me see what the void is saying back.

    Thank You For Reaching the End

    Revisit Prior Posts Below

  • Sleeping Like a Dolphin: Half-Awake, Half-Asleep to Survive

    Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here

    Our Sleep Patterns: Inborn or Adaptive?

    I had read Dr. Michael Breus’s book The Power of When, some years back, hoping to see how it could help me sleep better and fix my insomnia-like symptoms.

    After finishing the book, I went down an interesting rabbit hole, wondering whether or not something was wrong with me. Again.

    I questioned if I was predetermined to be wired as a dolphin—half-awake, half-asleep like dolphins when swimming—or if I trained myself to be one. Always on alert, where any sound, even silence, is a threat.

    What Can We Infer From Science and Experience?

    I haven’t looked deeply into sleep science beyond reading The Power of When.

    Though, I was curious to see if we’re capable of overwriting our sleep patterns with new ones.

    I used to work night shifts before switching over to a day shift, though similar patterns emerged:

    I’d stay up late into the night, struggle to wind down even with nothing on my mind, keep electronics away from me for an hour before sleep, then give up because I was forcing myself to do something my body and mind didn’t want to do.

    I listened to my usual mode of being and made what looks like a struggle to sleep and stay awake work for me.

    We’re built different, are different, and some general help helps 50% of the time more than not.

    I still stand by the idea that we can train ourselves to adapt our sleep habits—whether our schedules change, we have an event or appointment to keep, or something new enters our lives and throws our routines out of whack.

    For me, I’m always alert and aware of a lot of things: noises inside and outside of my studio, my Blink camera clicking because it thinks it’s tracking movement, my bed only a few feet away from the entrance.

    Even the quiet is unsettling because I grew up with noise—my dad snoring from sleep apnea, my dogs barking like mad because someone was walking past the fence, neighbors blasting music, people revving cars at midnight, or someone screaming until EMT lights flash through my window without sirens.

    Nothing new there.

    However, my current schedule is far from ideal, and it’s going to be the thing that kills me, if I don’t do something about it, one of these days.

    What I’m Doing Isn’t Sustainable

    On the days where I’m working both of my jobs, I’m practically working—and awake—for nearly the whole day.

    Like yesterday: I’d been awake since 6 a.m. at my first job and didn’t get home from my second until literally midnight, the next morning.

    I just got home 30 minutes ago, showering to wash off the dirt, grime, and glass dust from the day before, and already, I haven’t had a chance to let myself—or even my car—breathe and decompress.

    I’m constantly on all of the time.

    My alarms go off between 2 a.m. and 3 a.m., and I’ll barely get a nap by the time I finish eating something, showering, and prepping what I need to grab and go.

    I’ve been nodding off at the wheel driving home.

    I’ll feel myself blink, and my body jolts awake—goes numb—because it knows I’m driving and need to stay conscious.

    I’ve even gotten mad at myself for nodding off. The usual spiel:

    “You FUCKING IDIOT!

    STAY THE FUCK AWAKE!

    I’M SO FUCKING TIRED!

    THEY KEEP TAKING AND I’M GETTING NOTHING BACK—IT’S NOT FAIR!

    YOU’RE ALMOST HOME! STAY AWAKE! STAY THE FUCK AWAKE!”

    I can’t stand the smell of coffee and energy drinks. I refuse to use them to stay awake because my heart already has too much adrenaline pumping.

    The extra caffeine might just give me a heart attack this time around.

    A heart attack before 30, what an accomplishment I’ll get to experience if it came to that, huh?

    I’ve already been feeling horrible pressure in my right temple, like someone is twisting a vise around my head.

    My attention slips occasionally. My words slur like a drunk person’s—except I’m sober, just drunk on sleeplessness.

    The amount of sleep debt I have is horrible, and soon, someone’s going to come collecting.

    The price?

    I’ll either crash my car, or I’ll crash into someone else. That’s my worst fear: that I’ll get into a preventable accident and kill someone in the process.

    I’m increasing the likelihood of that happening with how terrible my sleep debt and hygiene are.

    And that scares me.

    What Have I Tried So Far?

    The only things I’ve been doing to help me sleep are taking hot Epsom salt baths and listening to fire crackle on my alarm clock—to keep my mind from focusing on everything outside me.

    The white noise feels both threatening and soothing.

    If I can’t hear something opening the door, I’m screwed.

    I live alone, so I better be fast enough to grab the stick within arm’s reach to fight back.

    But this is only doable on my days off.

    I’m struggling to find better solutions for the days I’m working both jobs.

    I return to my studio carrying the dirt and grime of the previous day, my legs numb from standing, struggling to hold my own weight.

    I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.

    I so badly want to call out of work for a few hours of rest, but I don’t.

    A lot of people have been let go for attendance and punctuality.

    Using personal days, floating holidays, sick days, or vacation time feels like a punishment at my main job.

    If I drop to a certain percentage, I’ll be next.

    I hate that I can’t afford to be let go when my debts hang over my head like a guillotine blade.

    A puff of air would be strong enough for it to fall, but it’s dull—so it keeps hacking away to get the job done.

    I don’t know why I keep doing what I’m doing.

    I know I’m extremely fucking tired, and my full-time job doesn’t reward loyalty.

    I’m just trying to get out of this shit spot I put myself in: financial debt, mental debt, emotional and physical debt—just too much debt owed.

    And I can see how close I am to being free.

    The only thing I can say is: despite how extremely fucking tired I am, I’m still writing.

    I’m still alive.

    I’ll keep posting as much as I can while figuring out how to pay my sleep debt off.

    If I ever stop, then the debt collector came.

    Otherwise, it can piss off a little longer, and I’ll be here—half-awake, half-asleep, still flipping off whoever comes to collect, still writing.

    Until then, I’ll keep swimming like a dolphin—half-awake, half-asleep, chasing freedom through the waves of fatigue.

    Call to Action

    This half-awake, half-asleep state is just one way I’ve adapted to survive, create, and stay aware in a world that never stops moving.

    I’m curious — have you ever felt like a dolphin in your own life, navigating routines, compulsions, or habits just to keep going?

    How do you cope when the world keeps turning while you’re barely resting?

    If this piece resonated with you, feel free to like, share, or subscribe to follow the journey.

    Your thoughts, reflections, and experiences are welcome here — they’re part of the Archive too.

    Other Sleepless Reflections

    A Thank You For Making It To The End

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto 2.0: A Companion Ebook

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto 1.5

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto 1.0

    Letters from the Void Newsletter