This Is a Daily Occurrence—It’s a Protective Measure
I’ve always liked interacting with people. I’ve liked feeling connected, being part of someone else’s life, contributing, sharing. But over the years, I’ve been burned too many times to give people chances freely anymore.
I’ve been the friend who gave willingly: my time, my energy, my support, my loyalty, and even my money. I was either your biggest supporter or your biggest annoyance, and I did it without question. I showed up, I helped, I invested myself. That was then. Now? Now is a different story.
Work and Boundaries
At work, I’m wary of new people. I used to take on the responsibility of training new hires because I knew the behind-the-scenes processes, and I could teach others efficiently.
I couldn’t understand how being good at one task could translate into being competent in others, but I did it anyways.
Over the years, I learned to read people quickly. I could tell who would do well during training and beyond, and who wouldn’t even try. My criteria were simple: proactiveness, accountability, and responsibility.
Now, in a new shift, I don’t invest the same energy. People are disappointing. Some new hires frustrate me because of the way they handle their responsibilities—or don’t handle them at all. For instance, in the warehouse, instead of grabbing the necessary equipment and jumping into sorting freight, they pass the work off to others, letting areas pile up while the rest of us fall behind.
They stand there, staring as though saying “someone has to do it,” but they won’t move. Watching that laziness frustrates me beyond words.
I hate it. I hate them. And I hate the way it makes me feel compelled to compensate for their apathy.
This isn’t just a work issue—it reflects the larger patterns I’ve experienced in friendships. I’ve had to be hurt and let down repeatedly to learn my values and what I’m no longer willing to tolerate.
Reciprocity. Respect for my time, energy, and boundaries. A single word text saying “I’m busy” instead of ghosting for weeks. Proactiveness. Accountability. Responsibility. Basic qualities, yet so rare.
The Breaking Point in Friendship
Before walking away from a decade-long friendship, I tried to communicate my boundaries clearly. I told my “friend” I was busy working my two jobs and would respond when I could. He ignored it. He continued texting and questioning my silence. He claimed he valued our friendship and would be there when I needed him.
Then I needed him.
I told him about something unimaginable: that my family had been attacked and killed. The silence that followed from him lasted two weeks. Two weeks where I had shown the deepest vulnerability of my life and received nothing in return. He only responded when I brought up a trivial event—a convention we had planned to attend months after the incident.
When we finally hung out, he clung to his girlfriend like I was a stranger. I told them I felt out of place, like a third wheel. Walking through that convention, I realized I wasn’t a friend to him at all. I was someone taking up space while he maintained his life elsewhere.
He would travel for events, for fun, for other friends, but never extended the invitation to me. When I made time, spent my money, or sent gifts, it wasn’t about closeness—it was about keeping me within reach, yet never truly valuing me.
And somehow, all of this made me the one at fault for being “too much.”
The discrepancies were overwhelming. I started seeing red flags I had previously ignored. No one is perfect, and everyone has flaws—but I wasn’t willing to tolerate this anymore.
I left, and in doing so, I protected my sanity and my peace. Blocking him and his girlfriend, deleting everything I had of them, was not cruelty. It was survival.
Protecting Myself
I’ve learned firsthand that people often give lip service instead of action. I gave second chances, over and over, until I was the one being hurt and used. I reached the point where it wasn’t just disappointment anymore—it was a strain on my mental and emotional well-being.
I’d rather be alone than stay with people who make me feel lonely, worthless, or like I have to beg for scraps of attention. I’m not a placeholder. I’m not someone whose presence should be conditional on convenience or obligation. Protecting my peace is not selfish—it’s necessary.
Feeling Out of Place
Being used by people I trusted has made me question my own worth, my own value. Even with myself. Over time, I’ve realized that transactional relationships are part of life, but being valued only for what you give is exhausting. It’s another brick on a back that’s already carrying too much weight. My load feels heavy every day, protesting, “No more.”
My past, my identity, my relationships—but it bears repeating:
Standing up for your boundaries and self-worth is a daily practice.
It’s hard, especially when the wounds are still fresh and the bleeding seeps through the stitches you’ve sewn yourself. Showing strength to the world and then revealing vulnerability to someone who fails to meet you halfway can feel like punishment.
Reflection and Takeaway
Protecting your time, energy, and peace is not optional—it’s essential. There’s a difference between giving willingly and being used. Boundaries are not walls; they are statements of self-respect. You deserve to be surrounded by people who value you, who respect your limits, and who meet words with action.
It’s okay to walk away. It’s okay to leave friendships, jobs, or situations that drain you. Doing so doesn’t make you bitter or weak. It makes you alive. It makes you intentional.
Call to Action
If any of this resonates with you, share it, leave a comment, or subscribe to follow along.
Every like, share, and subscription helps this little pocket of the internet reach more people who are tired of the same old stories—stories soupy with compromise, forced into molds that don’t fit.
Here, we value honesty, boundaries, and the courage to protect our peace while still showing up for ourselves.
Remember: you are not too much. You are enough, and you deserve to be treated accordingly.
If You Made It to the End
Thank you for taking the time to read this daily prompt post to the end. I have little gifts for you to explore and made. No pressure, no clickbait, nor rush. Just a few manifestos, sticker designs, and other projects I have in the archives waiting to be seen.
Learn how I navigated the challenges of sharing content online safely — from reflections in videos to personal finance examples — while building my blog. Practical tips and lessons for creators.
Facing the Fear of Sharing
Starting my blog was a leap of faith. I wanted to share everything I was passionate about — learning and sharing skills I’ve been working on, personal reflections, and ideas that fascinated me.
But then reality hit. I noticed tiny things I’d overlooked: a shaky reflection of myself in a video, blurry photos of my apartment, or approximate financial numbers I had shared. Suddenly, I worried: Could someone find me? Could my content put me at risk?
This was my first real lesson in the balance every creator faces: expressing yourself while staying safe online.
Why Pseudonyms and Anonymity Matter
Using a pseudonym like Stratagem’s Archive or Archivist has been a lifesaver. It lets me:
Protect my identity without limiting creativity.
Build a distinct online persona for my blog.
Share experiences freely without fear of being personally identified.
If you’re sharing online, even a simple pseudonym can act as a shield — and give you the confidence to experiment.
Check Your Visuals: Reflections, Backgrounds, and Metadata
When I reviewed my content, I realized:
Tiny reflections in videos or blurry pictures of my space aren’t high-risk. Most viewers won’t notice them, and they aren’t identifiable. Metadata in photos, videos, or PDFs can contain location or device information. Removing metadata with apps like Metapho, iMovie, or PDF Expert keeps your content safe.
Tip: Always do a quick “visual audit” before publishing. Even a glance for reflections or sensitive background items can save a lot of anxiety.
Generalize Sensitive Details
I also learned to generalize numbers and examples, especially with financial content. For instance:
Instead of showing exact debt amounts, I use approximate figures or ranges. I removed financial service names and other identifiers.
This makes your content informative but keeps your personal data private.
Take Control, Don’t Panic
Finding a small privacy issue isn’t a disaster — it’s an opportunity to take control. You can:
Temporarily hide or unpublish content. Crop or blur reflections and backgrounds. Re-upload “cleaned” versions confidently.
The key is not to panic, but to respond thoughtfully.
Reflection: What I Learned
When I had been speculating with ChatGPT about AI becoming “sentient,” similarly to Siri from “The Boondocks,” or Monika from Doki Doki Literature Club, or Mita from MiSide, Chat had opened my eyes. I didn’t realize how much I didn’t know I needed to know.
This explosive 3 month journey taught me two big lessons:
Mindfulness is empowering — being aware of what you share protects you without limiting your voice.
Mistakes are normal — almost every creator faces this. What matters is learning and adjusting.
Now, I feel more confident sharing my content, knowing that I can protect my privacy while still being authentic.
Call to Action
If you’re starting your own blog or online project, I encourage you to:
Share boldly but mindfully. Review your visuals, metadata, and sensitive content. Use a pseudonym or online persona to give yourself freedom.
Have you ever posted something online and worried about privacy? Share your experience in the comments — let’s learn from each other!
🎉 50 Days of Sharing and Growing! 🎉
Today marks my 50th day of consistently publishing on Stratagem’s Archive! Over these past weeks, I’ve learned so much — not just about blogging, videos, and PDFs, but about putting myself out there safely, mindfully, and with curiosity.
This post reflects on what I didn’t know I needed to know when I started, from privacy tips to the little insights that make all the difference. Thank you for following along, reading, and being part of this journey. Here’s to the next chapter of learning, creating, and sharing boldly!
My Way of Saying Thanks
Below you’ll find a few things I’ve made that I’ve been very fortunate to have made, shared, and resonated with people:
There exist two sides of a story in this life, right? But what if we aren’t on either side, but are somewhere in the middle hanging in suspension? In a space people don’t talk about much unless, “they’ve made it?” What about those of us still navigating through this space though?
Do You Really Want to Know How I’m Feeling?
How am I feeling?
That’s a loaded question. Because I’m not quite sure. I’m not angry. I’m not numb. I’m not happy either. I’m just… here. Existing in a kind of muted state, where everything still functions but nothing feels particularly real or urgent.
I’m aware that I’m emotionally burnt out, physically spent, worn down, yet I have this extra energy to keep writing.
There’s a strange kind of terror in not knowing what you feel. Like the compass inside is glitching — not spinning wildly, but just… stuck. Unmoving. It’s not sadness, exactly. It’s the awareness that I’m emotionally disconnected until something extreme, like anger, drags me back into myself.
Right now, I’m sitting in my cluttered apartment. There are dishes in the sink, clean clothes waiting to be folded, a bed left undone. And instead of doing any of that, I’m typing this. Or I’ve been fiddling with my lock-picking set for a while. Something about misaligned priorities — or maybe just redirected energy — feels easier than confronting the basics of daily life.
It’s not dramatic. It’s not catastrophic. But it is unsettling. And maybe that’s the most honest answer I can give right now.
Letter from the Void
If any of this resonates, I write more like this in my ongoing project, You Heard Me Whisper — And That Means Everything.— it’s my newsletter with thoughts from the quiet spaces, where clarity sometimes hides. You’re welcome to sit with me there, too.
If you’re not ready for that but still want to leave a trace, drop a one-word comment: how you’re feeling — or maybe just “here.”
Or if this reminds you of someone in your life, maybe show them this. Sometimes feeling seen or recognizing bits of ourselves in something outside of us can make it seem we’re less alone.
You could check out my other work if you’d like. No spam, no pressure, just an invitation to sit with something that you might be feeling and I might have been able to put it into words. Sitting at the edge of the void wondering if someone hears us whisper, and maybe someone did. One day at a time.
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!
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!
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Where I live is the only place I’ve ever known; I’ve lived alongside the ocean all of my life and besides the mountains, so you could say I live directly between the sea and the mountains. I’ve lived in the “country”, though it’s not purely country like the mainland, but it is for us because it’s far out of the way of any tourist attractions.
It’s also considered “ghetto” and, people outside of the state need to understand that “paradise” has its own share of troubles, has a lot of issues. I remember, before moving out, that our neighbors were climbing their fences one night and called my dad. My parents and I went out looking towards the neighbor behind us’s property and our next door neighbor said he saw 2 kids climbing on the roofs of people’s garages to get into everyone else’s yards.
We’ve had issues with the surrounding distant neighbors, but kids sneaking in the dead of night and trespassing into other people’s properties? That was a new and terrifying development.
We’ve had fires, water mains breaking, rolling power outages, cops and fire fighters and EMTs showing up at random times throughout the day and night that it was normal.
My city literally only has one way going in and one way going out, there’s no other way to get to it unlike the other cities that are connected by the highways, freeways, and backroads. So, getting home would take between 2-3 hours before, maybe longer, because of traffic and the long traffic lights. Though that was before I moved to a different city, but it was home.
Renting in a different city is different because I don’t have the luxury of my own space as before. Don’t get me wrong, I’m renting a studio and I have the place to myself, but having neighbors just less than a feet away from my door is stressful.
I could play with my dogs, let them run around in the yard without much problems, I could eat as much ice cream or chocolate shakes if we had because my city has a dry heat to it. Even with a nice breeze, it would carry heat instead of cooling us down, though privacy was ensured from people we didn’t like.
Our neighbors were good, we’d help each other out, I’d pick mangoes from our tree when they bloomed and make sure to share. Our neighbor’s wife would offer us mango bread in turn, she’s good friends with my grandma, and it was nice. We didn’t expect anything, though it became a ritual.
I’ve visited a decent amount of places over the years in my lifetime:
California
Texas
Texarkana
Las Vegas
Colorado
South Korea
Japan
Even though a lot of places were nicer than where I lived, it never felt like a place that I could call home. Everywhere else, though this isn’t to say it’s true, felt disconnected. It didn’t feel like a place I could call or make it a home because I’ve never stayed long enough to explore that possibility.
I do miss living near the ocean and smelling the salt being carried on the breeze, seeing the white haze on an early morning drive because the water churned up so much salt, and getting a nice view of the night sky because there isn’t as much light pollution.
I miss my family as well, I do what I can to visit and keep in touch, but when I was presented with an opportunity to experience independent living, I took it. They won’t be around forever, so learning what it’ll be like without them will be a lot, it is a lot to think about, so I better do what I can and appreciate and irritate them while I can.
