The really early mornings and late into the evenings are the best times of day for me.
Very few people are awake before the dawn, so it’s nice and quiet — a rare stillness before the noise, hustle, and bustle of everyone else stirs with the rising sun.
Even though there are night owls, even partygoers, who are awake late into the evenings, they don’t bother me because their noise is usually short-lived.
No cars are revving their engines.
No children screaming with their games or vivid imaginations.
No adults arguing over this or that or rushing to make it on time for work.
It’s just me, my thoughts, my games, books, and this iPad I’m typing on.
Even the rare instances where the sound of a leaf blower and the typing of keys are the only background noise to be heard in the late mornings.
A simple treasure, a fleeting one, before the noise picks up again.
Just time to think, sit, and enjoy the moment, especially if you’re like me and are either mentally a day ahead, a day behind, but are rarely found in the present moment.
Thank You!
If you made it to the end of this post, I’d like to say, “Thanks.” You reaching it down here means a lot to me. Below is a gift from me to you that you can check out if you’d like.
This is the first post of my unofficial “No A.I. assistance for 1 week challenge,” and to see if I can hit 30 days of consecutive postings. Those are my 2 personal blog goals I’m doing for fun.
I’ll be publishing my usual posts with just my thoughts, my own structure, and voice. No ChatGPT to be used as a the ghost writer of my drafts deas for the time being.
If you’re curious about what else I write about, you can check out my other works below, and I’ll see you in the archives.
Tell us about the last thing you got excited about.
Lately, I’ve been asking myself a strange but honest question:
When was the last time I felt genuinely excited about something?
Not just “looking forward to it” or “distracted by it” — I mean that full-body feeling of joy, anticipation, and energy.
And the truth is…
I can’t remember.
Maybe it’s the burnout I feel when I’m sleeping in the backseat of my car at work, five days a week at 4am, more than my bed, just to get parking.
Maybe it’s the way my routines flatten time and the days begin to melt together. I’m either mentally a day ahead or a day behind, but rarely in the present.
Maybe it’s grief, or fatigue, or the quiet sense that nothing really hits the way it used to.
None of the books, comics, games, or projects I have a backlog on excite me the same as:
When I attended to my first anime convention in high school and cosplayed as the Aya Brea (Parasite Eve) version of Lightning Farron (Final Fantasy 13).
When I hit a royal flush on a poker machine for my 21st birthday.
When I overcame a video game boss from Elden Ring or Bloodborne after dying how many times and countless retries.
Or when Borders used to be open and I would spend my time there, browsing and looking over what books were there.
I drew something I genuinely like then criticize it for “not being good.”
When I wrestled for 1 year, overcame a lot of challenges, because I was someone with no talent, no skill, no strength, and zero athletic ability, but I showed up anyways, even when the cards were stacked against me.
These are simple examples, they hold meaning for me, but not excitement.
Either way, I still create. I still write. I still publish these posts nearly every day — sometimes out of discipline, sometimes out of obsession, sometimes out of anger to do something, or just because I’m trying to not go completely numb.
Some days it already feels like I have gone emotionally numb.
But then something small happened.
And it reminded me what it feels like to be seen.
A person commented on one of my posts — specifically, the one titled:
That post came from a real place. It wasn’t crafted to get clicks. It was just a question I had… one that lingered in my head, one I felt compelled to ask out loud, instead of letting it fester in my head.
And someone responded.
Not just with a “like.” Not with silence.
They spoke back.
This person shared how they had been on WordPress for 11 years now — That they’ve felt and thought the same way — writing into the quiet, wondering if anyone ever truly connects through these posts or acknowledges the work we painstakingly share.
Their comment hit me harder than I expected. It was simple, short, and it felt honest.
Because it told me that the echo I sent out wasn’t lost into the void.
Something bounced back — not as noise, but as a voice.
A person.
Someone who understood.
For myself, after almost three months of writing, after 45+ posts, after wondering if I was just building an invisible archive of thoughts, even though I am, — this moment reminded me why I’m still doing this.
Maybe I still can’t name the last thing I felt excited about.
But I can name the last time I felt heard.
And for now, that means more than excitement.
So, thank you — to that one person who commented.
And to anyone else out there silently reading.
Even if you don’t say anything, maybe one day… you will.
And when you do, when you drop in to say, “hi”, I’ll be here.
Here’s some more pieces of this convoluted puzzle I call my life, work, and thoughts down below, just to see what else is there, or if you resonated with what I’m writing.
I Thought I Was Behind — Something Else Was Calling Out to Me.
I thought I was having a quarter-life crisis at 28.
It hit me like a booming panic that grew louder each day: this feeling that I wasn’t doing enough, hadn’t achieved enough, wasn’t becoming enough.
I kept looking at what I thought I was supposed to have by now — by society’s standards, by other people’s timelines, by the noise in my own head.
But the more I sat with it, the more I realized…
I wasn’t falling apart.
I was just going against everything I was taught to measure myself by:
I’m not married or have a partner.
I don’t have a degree.
I work 2 jobs and sleep in the backseat of my car five days a week — by choice, not because I’m homeless, but because parking at my full time job is horrendous, and I can’t afford to waste time or money.
I sleep by 9pm or 11pm and wake up at 2am, I drive to my warehouse job, park, learn to code on my phone in the dark, and sleep another hour or two before my shift starts. I try to rest, but my mind runs rampant, my back seizes in pain, and my stomach hurts from running on snacks instead of food.
I make $23/hour — decent by some standards — I get paid weekly, and I have a plan to utilize every paycheck. At my full-time job, I contribute 10% of my income to a 401k, with an 8% company match. I’ve grown that account to over $40,000 in three years — without a degree, without help, without shortcuts.
My part-time job at a rage room pays $16/hour and every 2 weeks. I save 15% from that paycheck and put it into a rainy day fund, just in case.
I’ve been investing $50 a week into my Roth IRA for two years. It’s now over $8,400.
I’ve rebuilt my emergency fund to over $1,500 by saving $50 a week into a high-yield savings account.
I’m still paying off $15,000 in personal debt and I’ll have this done by June-August of 2026.
I can cook. I can clean. I know what my priorities are, and I can take care of myself because I’m worth taking care of deep down, even if I don’t believe it.
This might not look impressive to most people. Maybe all of what I shared doesn’t look impressive to you either.
But it’s real. It’s earned. And it’s mine.
I Chose To Do Something Then Settle Again
I don’t have all of the answers, I don’t know what I’m doing, but I chose to take action despite my fear and agonizing over whether I’m crazy, too much, or just accept what I’ve been given.
I walked away from a 10-year friendship that made me feel small, I stopped chasing people that wasn’t aligned with who I am or made me feel unwanted, even after sharing what was on my mind — I’m single, I’m asexual, and I don’t need to fill a void with a warm body and more empty promises.
Or worse, being kept around so that other people can feel good about themselves, instead of wanting me around because they enjoy my company.
I’ve traveled with family — to different states and even internationally. I’ve seen Seoul, Sapporo, Otaru, and Hokkaido. I’ve stood in places I used to only dream about. And still, I carry this feeling like I’m falling behind.
Because the world doesn’t clap for quiet work.
It doesn’t validate survival.
It only notices “success” when it fits a clean narrative:
If you have a successful multi-million dollar business.
If you own a lot of real estate or assets.
If you have a lot of connections or opportunities.
If you’re already “gotten everything figured out.”
Things that I don’t have right now, but know that it could be another thing to work towards.
How I Am During These Moments
I’m tired most days.
I’m angry more often than I’d like.
I don’t eat full meals because there isn’t time.
I don’t get enough restful or restorative sleep.
I can be rude, spiteful, and rigid. I don’t feel joy at my full time job, and I’m feeling myself slowly retreating internally at my part time job. I don’t feel much of anything, most days.
But I’m still here.
I’m still drafting, writing, and sharing.
Still building something, even if no one sees it yet.
The truth is:
I’m not afraid of getting older.
I’m afraid of running out of time with nothing to show for my life.
I just wonder if anyone feels the same – that we’re sharing, but not connecting as we might have thought we were, expert or not.
-The Stratagem’s Archives
Are We Sharing, Or Just Speaking Into the Void?
I had always wanted to start a blog; it was something I wanted to do since high school, but never pursued it. After years of wishing, wanting, and agonizing over why I wasn’t good enough to write, I finally hit that “publish” button in late June of 2025.
This was an idea that lingered — something I told myself I’d do one day, when I had more time, more to say, or more certainty about what I even wanted to write.
I finally stopped waiting, I finally gave myself a chance and do something new, even though it scared me.
When I first started writing, I thought I learned enough to share what strategies I use for my own life and that I could share my ideas and thought with other people.
However, I’m not an expert, I don’t know what I’m doing a lot of the time, and I’m okay with this.
I’ve created this space to become my personal archive — a place where I share what I’m learning, what I’m unlearning, and what I’m still sitting with. It’s not always neat. It’s not always deep. But it’s mine, it’s real, and that’s enough for me.
Still, sometimes I wonder:
Are we really connecting in these spaces, or are we all just publishing and scrolling past each other?
I’m not upset about it. It’s something else.
It’s more like… curiosity mixed with quiet disappointment.
Like when you wave at someone across the street and they kind of wave back, but you’re not sure they even saw you.
I see “likes” on my posts, and I’m grateful. I really am.
But sometimes I wonder:
Did anyone actually read it? Did what I write sit with them like it sat with me when I wrote it?
Because when I click “like” on someone else’s post, I’ve read it.
I’ve usually felt something.
Sometimes I comment. Sometimes I don’t know what to say. But I try to engage, because I came here to do more than just tap and scroll.
What Were We Hoping For?
When we started these blogs — whether on a whim, in a spiral, during burnout, or because of that one night where the urge to write finally won — what did we hope would happen?
I think a lot of us wanted to:
Share what’s on our minds.
Feel less alone.
Maybe build a quiet corner where people think similar to us.
And I still believe that’s possible.
But connection, real connection, seems harder to come by than we expected. At least, to me it is. It’s not automatic, not even in this age of platforms and algorithms.
I write because I’m afraid of wasting my life and having nothing to show for it.
I’m afraid of watching life slip by while I waste it — even if I end up wasting it by:
Procrastinating.
Getting easily distracted.
Filling my time with “productive habits and activities” that aren’t going anywhere right now.
But I choose to write, I make things, I learn something new and interesting, and I archive my thoughts. I press publish — even when I don’t know if anyone’s reading.
This Isn’t a Call for Validation
It’s a moment of wondering:
Do you feel this too?
Do you feel the same, that we’re writing into some void?
Does it feel like writing, hitting publish, and simply waiting to be noticed by someone feels like a knife driven into your chest?
If you’re reading this, and it resonates, I’d love to hear what keeps you writing.
Or what you hoped your blog would be when you started, or simply say, “hi”, in the comments below..
If you’d like to check out any of my other works, just to take a look, then these other articles might give you more pieces to the puzzle I’m trying to unravel and decipher myself below.
Real fast before you move on, a few questions if you’d please:
What post of mine stuck with you—and why?”
“What would you want to see more of?”
“Would you support this space if I offered a way to?”
Until then — thanks for reading, even silently. The archives will be closing now, and I’ll see you when the archives opens again.
If I could design the city of the future, then I would introduce more opportunities for play, learning, and challenge. It would still be optional, like a bike and zipper lane. Although, it would bring the playfulness most people have out to try something novel and new.
For example, the outdoor calisthenics gyms are in dedicated areas, similarly closed off like and away from the public eye as the morgues and hospice and hospital care. Out of sight and out of mind, unless we really need those services.
Imagine this; you’re minding your own business and you see children and grown adults alike playing hopscotch along the sidewalk. Or someone is navigating a small maze next to a fountain. Or friends are challenging each other to a battle of wit, words, riddles, and rhyme.
Everything would be optional; these obstacles and challenges are visible and part of society to challenges ourselves to move, think, or play differently. It’ll be adding small doses of chosen, personal chaos in our set routines.
Nothing would obstruct, block, or hinder anyone or our day to day. Rather they would be there as reminders to move, think, and do something different once in a while.
If you liked this prompt or felt it resonate with you drop a hi in the comments, then you can explore the other examples below. Subscribe and follow me on this journey of how writing can be a way to ground me, ground us. Thanks for reading, and I’ll see you when the Archives open again.
If you have a name that looks similar to a simple to pronounce name, yet have people struggle to say your name, then it can be a wonder as to what’s wrong with people.
Over the years, people struggled to pronounce and read my name, but it, to me, wasn’t difficult. Some times people forgot that, in English, the ‘s’ and ‘h’ combined creates a, “shhh” sound. When people omitted the ‘h’ in my name and made the ‘s’ longer, I’d think that people needed to go back to Elementary school to learn basic phonics.
Anywho, back in 8th grade, my English teacher had been the first to read and pronounce my name correctly because it was the exact same pronunciation and spelling as his wife’s name.
Later that school week, I was introduced to my English teacher’s wife, she was substituting, by my Math teacher and she asked if I was related to someone. I told her I was, she asked if that person was my mom, I told her no, the person she described is my mom’s sister.
It turned out, when I asked, that my mom had met her sister’s classmate, my 8th grade English teacher’s wife, back in high school. She liked her name that, when I was born as a surprise because my mom didn’t realize she was pregnant, it was the name she gave me.
I had met the woman who I was named after and it was an interesting experience. It really shows you how much of a small world we live in.
I write more than about where my namesake came from.
If you are someone who is curious and enjoys learning new things from the beginning – 0 experience and no prior knowledge – but don’t feel confident in learning, and likes this kind of content, hit subscribeand like to follow my journey into new skills, knowledge, or what I’m pursuing as a beginner.
Below are blog posts where I share the things I’ve learned from 0 as a complete noob, to still not knowing what I’m doing, but I have a plan to learn by doing. You can check out now and see if I’m learning something you might be curious about!
“…I’m striving to reduce fear’s hold on me and to expand my options. To use my anger against myself, circumstances, other people that irritates me for something constructive…”
My Goals Go Through a Process – Archivist
I hate feeling small, worthless, useless, and like a failure. This doesn’t have to be just feelings in a workplace, but also in my relationships too.
If I feel this same anger, spite, and the regret that taking no action will lead to feeling even worse regret, then I will take necessary action. I’ve done plenty of reflecting, it’s just a matter of doing the extra work of following through.
Many of my goals, curiosities, and actions do come from a place of mild obsession. So, after years of telling myself, “don’t do that or I’ll fail,” I flipped it around and started to say, “If I DON’T do that, then I’ll have actually failed.”
Enjoyed this post? Hit subscribe so you don’t miss the next one.
New posts daily to weekly. Subscribe to keep up with my latest writing and reflections.
Check out more of my other daily prompts or other works below.
My first experience with C++ was a spectacular failure.
Ten years ago, I walked into a university computer science class with zero coding knowledge and a very big dream: I wanted to make my own video games. That dream quickly turned into a nightmare of syntax errors and confusing concepts. By the end of the semester, I had a D- on my transcript and a deep-seated belief that coding just wasn’t for me.
My path to that point didn’t help. Unlike many of my classmates, I never had a computer science class in high school. While they were building projects, I was learning a trade with my building and construction major. My only prior experience was messing around with RPG Maker on my English teacher’s computer—a memory I’d long since buried under the weight of that D-.
For a decade, that D- was the last word on the subject. I told myself it was fine; there were other things to learn, other paths to take. But the idea of building something from scratch never completely left me. The curiosity was always there, simmering in the background.
Then, just 13 days ago, I decided to face that old ghost. I wasn’t going back to a university classroom or picking up a massive textbook. Instead, I’m starting from the very beginning with an app called Mimo.
This isn’t about getting a certification or a perfect grade this time, though that would be pretty useful. It’s about proving to myself that I can learn this, that my past experience doesn’t define my potential, and that maybe, just maybe, I can turn that old dream of making games into a reality.
In this series, I’m going to share exactly what it’s like to start over with a skill I thought I failed at. Part two will dive into the specific tools I’m using to learn, and part three will cover the lessons and progress I’ve made so far. If you’ve ever felt like you’re not smart enough to learn something new, or you’re stuck on a skill you gave up on, this is for you.
Join me on this journey as I get back to the basics and finally build the coding skills I once thought were out of reach.
The archives will now be closing, I will see you in part 2, and until we open again. Thank you!!!
I’m not an expert—I’m a learner.
If you’re into stories about figuring things out, trying again, and making progress on your own terms, hit that subscribebutton and join me on the journey.
My top 10 favorite movies, huh? It’s been awhile since I’ve been able to sit down and watch something that’s not a YouTube video, a podcast episode, or a Netflix series. However, if I had to pick, not in order of what is and isn’t my favorite, I would pick:
K-Pop Demon Hunters (2025) Netflix
Dungeons and Dragons (2023)
Million Dollar Baby (2004)
Saw VI (2009)
Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children (2006)
Lucy (2014)
Doctor Strange (2016)
Resident Evil (2002)
The Platform (2020) Netflix
Game Changers (2016) Netflix
I like a lot of different movies genres. From sci-fi, fantasy, dystopian, suspense, psychological horror, action, documentary, as long as the premise is interesting and the movie keeps my attention.
Whenever I’m watching something at home, I’m on my phone more or doing anything else and letting the screen watch me than anything.
Lots of movies had very interesting concepts, like “Tarot” looked interesting. Where a bunch of college kids finds a cursed tarot card deck and, because they didn’t bless it or something, whatever the card is drawn for them relates to their death. It was a cool concept, but it made me root for the monsters a little more than the college kids.
Actually, it kind of reminded me of a move from years back where a spirit was inside of a video game disc. How your character died in the game was how you died in real life.
It was called, “Stay Alive (2006)”. If you didn’t want your kids playing video games, trust me, this movie made me not touch ANY games for a long time, until my kid mind was okay with playing games again.
This is a tough question for me because I like to write about a lot of things. In my “About Me” page About The Stratagem’s Archive: The Debriefing Area:, in my “Homepage” The Stratagem’s Archive: You Begin Here:, and even on my post pages, I’ve written that I’m just an average dilettante who likes learning new things, see what outcomes I get, and share what I’ve learned here.
I like to write about things I find interesting, even if my knowledge is incomplete or bare, as it gives me an opportunity to bridge my personal gaps.
It’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to writing a story that combines world building, fantasy and/or sci-fi, potentially horror, using real life inspiration, and many more elements without it becoming a book. Many D&D stories eventually become books, though it’s not the main reason why I write these kinds of stories myself.
I’m a gamer and a bookworm looking for recommendations – books, games, cartoons, stories, movies, writing, and other media I could get ahold of – are things I hold dearly. Being imaginative filled my days and D&D, when I got into it at the end of 2023, gave me a chance to share the ideas I kept to myself and refine them over time with other people.
I’ve ran a few of my own home brew stories before I had to put D&D and GMing on pause. My first story was called, “The Golden Chest of Lady Ahn’ket”, it was supposed to have been a one-shot, but I didn’t know how long a one shot was supposed to be and it took roughly a dozen 2-4 hour sessions to finish.
I could share more about this story as part of the “D&D Stories I Won’t Get to Use (Yet)” series I’m building. Although, I have used this in game with people, I wanted to refine my first story and, hopefully, share it other people.
Although, I had to quit with the group I played with on Discord because my schedule wouldn’t allow much free time as before, but I would love to get back into playing and running games.
In conclusion, D&D stories and prompts are what I like to write the most. They can expand in many different directions and you’ll never know where the players would take it. They’ll derail all of your hard work, but that’s why it’s great how flexible it can be, and how flexible I need to be, to keep moving forward with the story.
If you like D&D, I would love to know what kind of stories you’ve played, what elements you’ve found fun to play, or if you have recommendations for a novel GM. Let me know in the comments down below, and I’ll see you in another post. Thanks!
Enjoyed this post?
I write about creativity, coding, art, and personal growth.
Subscribe to follow my journey and get new posts when they drop!
