Tag: Intentional living

  • Rage Against the Spirit That Wants to Fade into the Night

    “Don’t go quietly into the night.”

    I’ve been hearing this phrase lately, a persistent spark at the back of my skull. Not a voice, not a command — just a constant pull. A reminder to keep pushing, keep fighting, and to flash as brightly as possible in a world that wants me to fade into the mundane. To become another statistic of our world.

    Living Loud in a World That Wants Silence

    I can’t control how my story ends. But I can control how I live the chapters I still have. I can choose to exist boldly, irritate the people around me simply by refusing to shrink into someone else’s version of “acceptable.” And I can’t do that if my life suddenly ends, right?

    I choose to fight — literally, figuratively, however way I can, every way I can. And maybe someone would have to stop me while I blast Indila’s Parle à ta tête in my earbuds.

    Why “Parle à ta tête” Hits Deep

    youtube.com/watch

    I’m not blasting it because it’s angry. It’s reflective. Honest. Funny in parts, deeply emotional in others. Indila dares to want something, to reach for life as brightly as she can — not fade away like so many people’s whose flame dies unnoticed.

    And that hits me hard. That’s the kind of fire I want.

    Real.

    Silly.

    But, ultimately, mine.

    Refusing the Mundane Exit

    I don’t know how long I have. But I refuse to let my exit be ordinary.

    • Not through drinking
    • Not through drugs
    • Not by letting life’s endless lines of trouble dictate the terms, even though these feel insurmountable at times

    I want to live on the edges, yes, but define my path myself.

    Leaving Proof Behind

    Even if I go out tomorrow, even if life finally throws its last strike and I miss, I will have left behind proof:

    That I lived as brightly as I possibly could with the time and resources I had.

    That I refused to fade quietly.

    That I raged. That I shone.

    The Proof I Existed

    I Made Small Tangible Artifacts of the Archive

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto 1.0

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto 1.5

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto 2.0: A Companion Ebook

    Letters from the Void Newsletter

    Reflect Here

    Have you ever experienced your own version of not going gently into the night? Share a thumbs up in the comments below or directly with me at: whatimtryingoutnow@gmail.com.

    If my words connect with you, consider liking, subscribing, or sharing this post. Every share helps others who feel stuck, unheard, or underestimated find this little corner of the internet — a space to remember that it’s okay to rage against the world’s expectations while building the life you truly want.

    Keep raging. Keep experimenting. Keep building. Keep shining.

    Other Reflections

    If you liked this reflection, then consider checking out other ones where the pull to extinguish my flame prematurely is strong, but I fight against it anyways. No matter how anxious, desperate, or hopeless I feel.

  • A Mini Ebook for Action: Introducing The Stratagem’s Manifesto 2.0

    Hey, Fellow Archivists,

    I am pleased to share something else I’ve made—similar to what I’ve made with my earlier Stratagem’s Manifestos—this one being more proactive.

    Introducing here is The Stratagem’s Manifesto 2.0. Not the full ebook I teased before—this one is smaller, faster, sharper.

    A brief collection of reflections you can actually do something with, not just read and forget. Short, simple, actionable. Try it, test it, see what sticks.

    Each piece is meant to hit where it needs to: shake habits, spark thought, push you to act. Life doesn’t wait, and neither should your growth.

    Everyday is an opportunity to embrace a personal scientific method: hypothesize, theorize, experiment, record data, prove or disprove whether something worked for you.

    You could try again with the same problem or move on to another issue. Archivist’s choice. You get a say in how you want things to be different. Never forget that.

    This mini manifesto is live, ready for you. Dive in. Reflect. Move. Build something real.

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto 2.0: A Companion Ebook

    Let me know your thoughts, be it in the comments or directly to my email at whatimtryingoutnow@gmail.com.

    I would love to know what you thought of this live personal experiment of mine, what stuck with you, stood out to you, or could have been better.

  • Where Do Frameworks and Tools End and Our Thinking Begin?

    Tools Are Supposed to Help Us, Right?

    I’ve tried just about everything in the name of “self-improvement.”

    Apps, challenges, journals, lessons — all promising clarity and control.

    But after all that effort, nothing in my life was actually changing.

    I wasn’t lazy. I wasn’t unmotivated. I was simply outsourcing my thinking.

    The Mighty Network Experiment

    I joined The Daily Stoic’s Mighty Network app for their Spring Forward Challenge 2025 — a two-week program to clean up every part of your life. Room, car, home, phone, even your habits. I was excited to finally join a community, to do something that felt constructive.

    And for a while, I did enjoy it. I joined the “Tame Your Temper” course too because, truthfully, I have one. I wanted to be a good student of Stoicism. Then, like a light switch, I stopped.

    The app just sat there on my home screen. I’d scroll past it daily, but never felt the need to open it again. I wasn’t avoiding it — I was just… done.

    At first, I thought that meant I’d failed. But something deeper was stirring in the background. I wasn’t burned out. I was waking up.

    The Realization

    The challenges and courses weren’t bad. They were designed to guide me — to give me structure and show me a path. The problem wasn’t the tools. The problem was how I used them.

    I was following instructions without questioning whether they fit my life, my habits, or my values. I’d become a student again — memorizing, not learning. Regurgitating, not applying.

    It’s a familiar pattern, isn’t it?

    When Learning Becomes Substituting

    I moved on to other self-improvement apps — like The Alux app, which focuses on the “five pillars” of a good life: finances, emotional health, intellect, relationships, and physical well-being. The lessons were solid, but they all shared one flaw:

    They told me what to do, rarely why, and never how to think for myself.

    Then, one evening during a quiet five-minute meditation — right before my alarm (fittingly called “Thunder Bringer”) went off — it hit me:

    The real work doesn’t happen in an app.

    It doesn’t live inside someone else’s framework.

    It happens here — in the silence, in reflection, in the moments when you ask:

    “Does this even make sense for me anymore?”

    Frameworks can guide, but they can’t think for you. They can’t teach discernment — only experience can. Once you learn enough from a tool, the real challenge begins: knowing when to put it down and trust your own judgment.

    That’s when growth stops being theoretical — and becomes real.

    Practicing Autonomy with Money

    One framework that truly helped me was Ramit Sethi’s “I Will Teach You to Be Rich.”

    It taught me how to manage my money and start building my version of a rich life.

    I’ve been aggressively paying down debt, investing consistently, automating my finances, and slowly rebuilding my emergency fund. I don’t follow Ramit’s percentages to the letter — I adjusted them to fit my situation.

    I prioritize paying off debt first. My “guilt-free spending” comes from simple pleasures: home-cooked meals, protein shakes that don’t wreck my stomach, donating to my local animal sanctuary, or treating family to dinner.

    That’s the key difference now: I learned from the framework, then made it mine.

    When the lessons became habits, I didn’t need the framework anymore.

    And if Ramit ever finds this — thanks. You taught me to stop chasing financial perfection and start living intentionally.

    What’s Next Now?

    Am I saying we should stop learning? Of course not.

    Some lessons take years to reach us, others appear only when we’re ready.

    But I noticed something important after stepping away from all the apps, videos, and podcasts.

    My life was still the same on paper: same full-time job, same debts, same exhaustion. I still hate how draining work feels, I still get angry and worn down, and I still fight with my own thoughts.

    But the difference is — I’m not looking outside myself for permission to change anymore.

    Philosophy and self-improvement didn’t teach me my values or boundaries. I learned them through hurt, betrayal, ghosting, and years of being a placeholder in other people’s lives.

    No course told me to stop drinking — I did that alone in 2018 when I realized alcohol wasn’t numbing anything, only amplifying it. That’s when I started listening, not to experts, but to my own silence.

    So, Are Frameworks Worthless?

    No. They’re not.

    They’re useful — until they’re not.

    Every framework has a shelf life.

    Use it, learn from it, but know when to outgrow it.

    Because if you’re just keeping a daily streak alive, or checking boxes to “stay consistent,” you might be moving — but not necessarily growing.

    Take a Step Back and See What Happens

    The question is: When was the last time you stopped following a system and started thinking for yourself again?

    This is my challenge to you — especially if you’re deep into the world of self-improvement, philosophy, or productivity hacks.

    Take a step back. Pause.

    Put the app down, skip the next lesson, and just think.

    Ask yourself:

    • What have I actually learned from this?
    • What can I apply without guidance?
    • What can I let go of now?

    You might find, like I did, that the noise starts to fade — and your own voice starts to return.

    I still hate parts of my life. I still get angry. But that anger taught me to stop tolerating bullshit. That exhaustion taught me that my effort matters. That loneliness taught me how to stand on my own.

    No app could’ve taught me that.

    Only life, and my willingness to really learn, could.

    Reflection for Readers:

    If you’ve been chasing self-improvement for years but still feel stuck, maybe it’s not because you’re failing — maybe it’s because you’ve learned all you can from your current framework. The next lesson might not be in a course or app. It might be waiting in your own reflection.

    If this resonated with you — or if you know someone who’s caught in the same cycle — share this post with them.

    Like it, subscribe, or pass it on to someone who’s ready to start thinking for themselves again.

    Subscribers get access to my Letters from the Void Newsletter before everyone else, behind-the-scenes looks into reflections and projects and progress, and access to my two manifestos.

    You could check them out here with this link for a preview of what it would be like becoming a Fellow Archivist below:

    Two Manifestos + A Gift (For Fellow Archivists)

    I’m glad you took the time to stop by and sit with me a while. It really means more than I could ever express with words. I’m working hard to provide physical stuff to give as a thank you. It’s going to take time, and I’ll let know when they’re ready.

    Start Here With Other Reflections:

    If you liked this article, then you can check out the first post reflecting how self-improvement imprisons us, and how experience shapes us more than “habits and lessons” ever could empower us, in these posts below:

    Or you could check out the archives by clicking on these links below. I’ll see you all there later. Thank you.

  • From Financial Pursuit to Connection: How Plans2Action Became The Stratagem’s Archive

    The Shift Started With a Name Change

    Three months ago, when I first started my blog, it was originally known as “Plans2Action.” I don’t know how I got it in my head—maybe because I realized that every day I sat in traffic, I wasn’t getting paid passive income outside of my retirement and investing accounts—but I had the great idea that, when I created my first ever blog, it would help bridge that passive income gap.

    At the time, it was an idea that got me to write whatever came to mind and hit publish.

    I had no service, no book, no merchandise to sell, so this was pretty ambitious for someone starting at ground zero. I had no idea how I was going to bridge this elusive money gap, but that wasn’t going to stop me from trying.

    The Persona I Started With

    In the beginning of this journey, I stopped myself from trying to figure it out…

    “Plans2Action’s” persona that I tried crafting it around was the “villain hiding in plain sight.” I was using Google Gemini to help me and I was struck with inspiration to write like a villain laying out their plans of chaos, routine, and being an inconvenience to everyone.

    I hated it.

    I know that I’m not a hero type, but calling myself a villain or a mastermind in training would turn my mood foul. It grew stronger when I made it through my first week of writing and I wasn’t getting much views, likes, subscribers, or shares.

    Yeah, I know, sounds delusional, right?

    I felt my soul getting crushed by another outlet outside of my mind-numbing job and the expectations of what “success” is supposed to look like.

    I wanted to quit. I had quit a lot of things before:

    • wrestling after a knee injury and fear of my “teammates,”
    • supporting the Invisible Children program,
    • quitting BJJ due to finances being tight and a back injury from working too much and poor lifting mechanics,
    • and I had been a job hopper after staying for 6 months to 3–8 years with each job.

    Every time I stopped something, I grew numb that I’d never stick with anything, and I hated myself for being a quitter.

    “Winners never quit and quitters never win” hammered into my head until it was engraved as my default mode of thinking.

    I’m a quitter. I’m a loser. I can’t do anything right. This blog is already a failure because I am a failure. What evidence do I have that says otherwise?

    With writing? Even though no one was reading my early work, I realized I was publishing from a desperate lens, not an open or welcoming one.

    This had been the wake up call that slapped me awake that I didn’t realize had whacked me to widen my eyes and thinking.

    From Desperation to Curiosity

    Somewhere between my first and second month, something shifted. I stopped trying to make my blog sound like a performance and started letting it sound like me.

    I stopped writing to “capture” attention and started writing to connect.

    That’s when Plans2Action stopped feeling like a name and started feeling like a costume I didn’t really like wearing.

    I wasn’t laying out villainous plans; I was recording my life, my observations, my frustrations, my curiosities, and my hopes.

    This wasn’t about action for action’s sake anymore. It was about strategy, thought, and reflection — not just “plans” but the archive of someone actively becoming something more than they ever were.

    Why The Stratagem’s Archive

    I can’t remember how I came up with The Stratagem’s Archive as my new name. I wanted to have “archive” in it, though I guess Plans2Action was lingering when I discarded it. Even though this sounds like some Helldivers fan page, it became something I ran with and grew.

    And it sounded cool to me.

    Eventually, the name clicked because it gave me permission to treat my blog as a living library rather than a sales funnel.

    It gave me the space to be messy, vulnerable, and honest without forcing everything into a neat conclusion.

    And ironically, when I stopped chasing clicks, the writing became easier, the posts more authentic, and the small but steady growth began to happen naturally.

    Takeaway

    This blog has become my record of showing up — even when no one was watching, even when my stats plateau, even when it would be easier to give up.

    It’s proof to myself that I can build something slowly, imperfectly, and on my own terms.

    And maybe that’s the real shift: not just rebranding a blog, but rebranding how I see myself. Not as someone who quits, but as someone who’s still here, building a portfolio, proof that I was done with letting fear rule what I did and didn’t do.

    A Gentle Ask

    If you’ve made it this far, thank you. Truly. Every like, share, or comment helps this little corner of the internet reach more people who are tired of cookie-cutter stories and want something real.

    If this resonated with you, consider subscribing or sharing this post with someone who might need to hear it.

    New subscribers get direct access to my newsletter, “Letters from the Void”, access to my manifestos, and behind-the-scenes projects I’ve been working on from the trunk of my car and in the dead of night.

    When others are typically asleep, I’m awake in the stillness.

    You’re not just reading words on a screen. You’re part of this archive, too.

    Other Reflections Below

    I’ve reflected on other things regarding finances, feeling worn down, and never enough in these posts below. Exploring them will show you more of the archives, and potentially help you articulate something you might have had trouble thinking on.

  • Sharing Safely Online: My Journey With Privacy, Creativity, and Confidence

    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:

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

    This is Where I’m Pausing — Not Ending

    Forty days.

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

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

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

    Now, I need to pause.

    Why I’m Stepping Back

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

    But the truth is: I’m tired.

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

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

    What This Means for the Archive

    This is not the end.

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

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

    To the Silent Readers and the Vocal Ones

    Thank you.

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

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

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

    Two Manifestos + A Gift (For Fellow Archivists)

    Until I Return

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

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

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

    — Stratagem’s Archive

  • Keep Writing — Your Freedom, Time, and Sanity Are on the Line

    What daily habit do you do that improves your quality of life?

    I don’t write because it’s cute or trendy.

    I write because, if I stop, I won’t lose myself.

    Blogging and writing has been something I’ve done for myself — not because I have to, but I NEED TO.

    Participating with my writing has become my life line.

    Everyday, when I’m working my two jobs, when the weight of my debts feel too much to bear, when the world and the noise in my head are getting louder, writing helps take some of the pressure off.

    My blog isn’t polished, it’s not optimized, and I don’t have answers. I’m someone who gets curious and would like to figure something out as I go.

    Every word that I write, every article that I publish, is a small act of defiance to the life I’m currently living. I REFUSE to accept this small life of mine, even if it’s mine. I’m Afraid of Wasting My Potential — So I Learn Everything I Can, While I Can.

    Some Days I Don’t Want to Be Here — But Staying is My F#ck You to the System. So, I keep writing, I keep burning the candle at both ends just to see if I could get this much closer to building my dream life with my own hands. Why? Because my freedom, time, and sanity are definitely on the line.

    What’s the one habit that you’ve held onto that’s helped you keep it together?

    I’d love to see your thoughts in the comments below.

    If not, that’s cool too. I’m thankful for the people who read all the way and made down here. I have a gift from me to you that you can check out, no spam and no commitment, just something I made.

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto

    Otherwise, here are some more of my works down below. Welcome to my personal archives, the start of my digital gardens, and I’ll see you all next time. Thank you.

    When The World is Asleep — I’m Still Awake

    My Life Doesn’t Look Impressive — But It’s Mine (Seedling)

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

  • What It Means When You Can’t Remember The Last Time You Felt Excited.

    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:

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

    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.

    Sincerely, The Archivist.

    Two Manifestos + A Gift (For Fellow Archivists)

    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.

    Some Days I Don’t Want to Be Here — But Staying is My F#ck You to the System

    I’m Afraid of Wasting My Potential — So I Learn Everything I Can, While I Can.

    How I Reworked Old Art After a Long Break From Drawing

    Brief Reflection:

    You know what? After 4 months of blogging, publishing over 115 posts later, and this still holds true.

    However, the difference being that, despite not feeling “excited,” I think we tend to overestimate how our energy fluctuates over time.

    Maybe excitement is for kids who are still able to see the world through a lens of wonder.

    As an adult, however, “excitement” might not be the best word to use when we really like something.

    Maybe, as an adult myself, I could reframe this question a different way.

    “Tell us about the last thing you were content with.”

    This could allow us to be a little more lenient towards ourselves instead of casting stones at ourselves for not being “excited” in a long time.

    Time changes us—we get older, our priorities and interests shift—so, let children bring the excitement and high energy into the world.

    I’d rather be leveled and not show my version of excitement to just anyone and keep it on the down low.

    Not everyone will match our energies, so let’s be forgiving of ourselves and enjoy our existence while we can.

  • My Life Doesn’t Look Impressive — But It’s Mine (Seedling)

    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’m Afraid of Wasting My Potential — So I Learn Everything I Can, While I Can.

    But when I slow down — like really slow down — and take stock, I can see that I do have something to show:

    1)A life I’m building on my own terms.

    2)Boundaries I fought to set after betrayal and painful erosion of my trust.

    3)I started a blog that holds my thoughts like a personal archive.

    4) My mind that won’t stop learning, even in the dark. 5)My body that kept showing up, even when it’s exhausted.

    6)And I have a sense of self that didn’t come from a partner, a paycheck, or external praise.

    It’s not glamorous.

    It’s not perfect.

    But it’s mine.

    And for now, that’s enough.

    You’ve Reached The End

    If you made it this far, I’d like to say, “thank you.” You stayed until the end and that means a lot to me.

    If you’d like to learn more about what I write about, then you can check out my home and about page below.

    About The Stratagem’s Archive and The Person Behind The Screen:

    The Stratagem’s Archive: You Begin Here:

    For those who’ve been reading silently and resonating with my work, I have a free PDF you can look over just because.

    No spam, no agenda, just sharing something I made, from me to you, as a thank you.

    Thank You + Free Download

    Other than that, I’d like to invite everyone reading a moment of space and quiet reflection:

    • Do you have moments where you feel like you’re not enough?
    • Ever had to fight the thoughts in your head that’s convinced that you’re behind?

    If you feel safe to share here, I’d love to know what’s on your mind in the comments below, or even a hey is cool if you feel up for it.

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

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

    Some Days I Don’t Want to Be Here — But Staying is My F#ck You to the System

  • Positive Emotions, You Say?

    What positive emotion do you feel most often?

    Throughout the entirety of my personal journey – betting on myself and moving ahead with projects I had postponed – I hadn’t been gripped with a shadow of “positive emotion” in a long time.

    I sat with the emotions I usually feel: anger, resentment, bitterness, and regret. But beneath them was something else, something subtle, and fleeting, yet it made itself known.

    Pride.

    Resilient.

    Persistent.

    In the moments where my demons surface, beneath their screams and shouts is something quieter; when it seems all of the work I’ve been putting in to build something I can call my own, to live my life on my own terms, is for naught, it whispers, “keep going.”

    These emotions: my pride, my resilience, and my persistence will channel my anger and regret into something better, beautiful, and enduring for my life to matter.

    Make it count. Make it matter. Move forward.”