The Stratagem’s Archive

Tag: reflection

  • Going Tech Free For An Hour: A Personal Experiment

    What Would Happen If Technology Was Put On The Side?

    I started getting headaches from staring at a small screen and doomscrolling through YouTube for the umpteenth time today.

    Nothing was interesting, nothing caught my attention, yet I kept trying to find something to watch.

    All the while, I then glanced out my window, and I realized how much of the day had gone by.

    I had barely eaten anything, scarcely had any water, and my apartment was still a mess.

    All because I was getting distracted by the thing in my hand.

    My phone.

    The thing that dominated my day, dictated how I would spend my time, and consumed my attention was the thing I depended on.

    Without my phone, I’m practically nothing. I use my phone to:

    • Listen to music and silence the thoughts in my head.
    • GPS my way around the island that I’ve never been to and through before.
    • I get to read books online because my back protests when I’m carrying a 20 pound backpack with nothing BUT books.
    • And other little functions I stopped thinking about.

    So, I asked myself, “what if I put my phone, and all of my other technological vices, aside for 1 hour?”

    No music.

    No video games.

    No background noises.

    Not even checking the time.

    Just an alarm set for an hour and three minutes later.

    An Hour and Three Minutes Later.

    Exactly as promised, I had put my phone aside, in plain view, and got to work.

    I started folding 3 weeks worth of clean clothes, I started cleaning through my clothes drawers, took the time to drink water periodically and snack on cookies, and felt interesting.

    Not strange; going without my phone or not jumping on my IPad for a while isn’t new to me. It’s just been a while since I had last felt more aware of everything.

    The kind of awareness where you don’t even realize how much you got done until you look around and think,

    “Wow, this got done faster than this seemed…”

    I wasn’t counting down time like I do at work when things are dragging molasses—my brain screams when 1 minute drags and felt like hours passed—then I felt my thoughts were a little quieter, and I made connections to idea that I never thought to write about before.

    Thus, this article had been born.

    Would I recommend every person I know to take an hour off from their phones, music, and habits?

    Not initially.

    I started this experiment for myself; I made this choice, and I would bring it up if someone was interested in trying it out.

    However, this was a personal experiment because I was getting myself sick—my eyes have been burning, even with blue light glasses and taking regular breaks—and, I figured, that I needed to reduce the amount of exposure for a little while.

    I wasn’t doing this experiment to be morally superior. I know I disengage from Life and all of its complexities. I just went after the very thing I know that’s contributed to my “feeling sick.”

    Solitude Makes This Challenge Easier; Real Engagement Takes Effort

    I felt better because I did this experiment when I was alone and at home.

    I didn’t have to spend a lot of mental bandwidth, but the real challenge comes from being out in public and with family.

    My parents and I have a typical modern rhythm where we would talk to each other for the first 5-10 minutes, suggest watching a movie, then my parents would be scrolling through social media.

    I get irritated because I’m trying to watch and their background noise makes it hard to pay attention.

    But I’m just as bad.

    When I visit my grandma, who is on her computer and talking stories with me, I’m not always engaged to what she’s saying half of the time.

    I’m scrolling through WebToons on my phone or typing away on ChatGPT, casually asking questions on the last thing I heard her say, without really listening.

    I’m a horrible granddaughter…

    In Conclusion

    I know that an hour a day is a lot to ask of myself—it’s easier at work because I don’t need my phone—when I’m at home.

    At work, it gets left in my locker.

    At home, family could be calling and texting and I need to respond. otherwise, my family might think I got into an accident or I’m mad at them, when I always leave my ringer on silent and never feel my phone vibrate.

    So, since every day is very likely gonna be different, I figured that I could simply set a low bar of entry:

    5 minutes.

    If I can go 5 minutes without my phone or jumping onto anything that normally distracts me, then I’m golden! (Yes, I enjoy K-Pop Demon Hunters, but we’re not talking about that!)

    Anything after 5 minutes is a bonus.

    Even though I’m not completely off-grid, I’m not saying technology is bad—a lot of jobs requires the use of our screens anyhow—I just think we need a break from it.

    Surprisingly, even if I’m just laying in bed and staring at the ceiling and listening to my fans run, it feels pretty good not listening to anything or anyone else for a few minutes.

    If You Made It To The End

    Thanks for checking this article out. It’s been months since I last wrote and, let me tell you, it’s been a struggle trying to find something to write about.

    There’s plenty to write about, though I’ve found that a lot of thoughts aren’t meant for sharing, but this one felt like it could help give someone a chance to think,

    “I might need to put this screen down for a second.”

    If you liked this kind of experiment, check out the other things found in the archives.

    Otherwise, I’ll see you in the next post.

    Archived Recommendations

  • Why Baking Soda and Vinegar Didn’t Remove My Toilet Calcium Stains — My 9-Month Struggle To a Clean Toilet

    I moved into my first ever studio apartment nearly 9 months ago. For the first 6 months, I didn’t clean my toilet at all. I only focused on cleaning my shower and sink.

    My toilet? Shit out of luck.

    However, by the time I actually looked at it, the white above the waterline had started turning grey. Weird, ugly, and stubborn — just the way I like my problems to test my patience.

    Turns out, that ugly grey stains are called calcium deposits.

    They remind me of plaque, but for toilets—stubborn and brushing isn’t enough to get your teeth clean. We need to floss, mouthwash, rinse and repeat this process somehow.

    Because calcium deposits are ugly, can damage my toilet, and cost me way more financially than a very upset stomach after eating Taco Bell’s.

    THEY. NEED. TO. GO!

    So, I tried the obvious solution: baking soda and vinegar. Thankfully, I already had these on hand.

    Spoiler alert: it didn’t work…

    The Baking Soda + Vinegar Saga

    I’ve been scrubbing this toilet like it personally offended me, every week, for the last 5–6 weeks.

    I sprinkled baking soda, poured vinegar over it, let it sit 20–30 minutes, and then scrubbed for 5–10 minutes, iPhone timer in hand.

    Guess what? Nothing. Nothing changed. The calcium deposits were still there, looking the same, mocking me with every scrub of my very firm bristled toilet scrubber.

    I even tried just baking soda on its own last week. Covered the entire bowl, left it for more than an hour because I got distracted, then scrubbed for 5–10 minutes… and it still looked the same.

    Like, what the fuck? My eyes aren’t broken — the calcium is just a stubborn little bastard that refuses to quit.

    Guess what? So am I—stubborn as hell and refusing to quit.

    Why This Method Doesn’t Work (For Long-Standing Buildup)

    Here’s the deal: baking soda + vinegar only works if you’re an OCD-level clean freak who never lets deposits form in the first place.

    I’m not.

    My toilet has been living its best 9-month uncleaned life, and now it’s punishing me. The consequences of my own actions are haunting me.

    Also, harsh chemicals are out of the question for me. My bed is literally in front of my bathroom. I don’t want to sleep in chemical fumes for days like I did when I cleaned the bathtub with Tropical Spring Fabuloso.

    Nice smell, yes, but still too strong for my tiny space.

    What I’m Going to Try Next

    Since baking soda and vinegar failed miserably, even after repeated failures but apparently I’m insane, my next experiments are going to use a few liter bottles of Coke and lemon juice. That’s right — I’m not giving up yet.

    I’m stubborn, pissed off, and determined to figure this out without resorting to harsh chemicals.

    Consider this Part 1 of my saga. Part 2 will cover the results of these experiments: which method finally gets this calcium out, and whether any of it is worth trying for your own toilet nightmares.

    If You’re Fed Up Too

    I know I can’t be the only one who’s stared at a toilet like it’s mocking them. If you’re just as tired of half-assed advice, if baking soda + vinegar isn’t cutting it for you either, you’re not alone. This is a space to vent, experiment, and maybe even finally get results.

    Leave a comment, like, or share this around if you’ve had your own calcium showdown or know someone going through the same frustrations.

    I want to hear how furious, stubborn, or creative you’ve gotten trying to deal with it, and what finally got through your own toilet demons.

    You can even do it anonymously, without a WordPress account, or even a thumbs up emoji to say, “I’m fed up with the consequences of my own actions, but got through them anyways.”

    Or if this made you let out a short, “heh,” at the ridiculousness of the situation or because my frustration made you not think about your problems for a second, that thumbs-up emoji can be used for that too.

    Call to Action

    If you’re fed up with stubborn calcium like I am and want to support me testing weird home remedies (Coke, lemon juice, and whatever else), you can drop a dollar by clicking this tiny wave button of encouragement below. Every bit helps me keep testing these ridiculous toilet demons so you don’t have to!

    Tiny Wave 👋

    Stay tuned for Part 2: the experiments with Coke and lemon juice, because I’m not letting this calcium win. And if you’ve got a method that works, I want to hear it. Let’s finally beat our bathroom nightmares together.

    Explore The Archives For More DIY Issues I’ve Tackled So Far

  • Introducing “The Quiet Archives”: A Reflection PDF

    Introducing “The Quiet Archives”: A Reflection PDF

    A Way to Say “Hi” Without Saying It

    Some days, I wonder how to say hi without anyone having to say it back. How to share a quiet moment with someone, even if it’s just in passing.

    That’s what led me to create The Quiet Archives, a small PDF of reflections and thoughts I’ve been gathering across my other PDFs.

    It’s not a manifesto, not a guide, not advice — just me putting words down and offering them quietly to anyone who might resonate.

    It’s six pages long, hand-crafted in tone and pacing, meant to be read slowly, like leaving a note for someone who might stumble upon it.

    Inside, I share reflections on endurance, self-kindness, grief, and the tiny steps I’ve tried taking to care for myself in the midst of everything life keeps throwing.

    If you’re curious, you can find The Quiet Archives here and it is yours to read.

    There’s no obligation; it’s just a way to share a quiet space with anyone who might want it.

    Sometimes, a simple hello doesn’t need a direct response. This is just my version of saying hi without having to say it.

    If anything inside The Quiet Archives, and previous PDFs, resonated with you, gave you something to think about, or allowed you to see things from a different perspective, click the Tiny Wave button below.

    I support this work myself. If you found value in it and want to help keep it available, optional support is here 🌊.

    Tiny Wave 👋

  • Why The Stratagem’s Manifesto 1.1 Exists (and What It Means for Me, and Maybe You)

    Manifesto 1.1 is an Extension, Not a Remake of 1.0

    I’ve been working on this quietly for some time. My PDFs, my manifestos, the book project that I shelved for the seventh time—they’ve mostly existed in the background, supported by my own effort, time, and energy.

    I haven’t relied on anyone else to keep them alive, not from pride, just that this matters to me. And that’s been fine on its own.

    But Manifesto 1.1 is Different.

    It isn’t more polished than 1.0. It isn’t inspiring or comforting. It doesn’t promise answers or solutions or a system. It feels grittier compared to Manifesto 1.0. And it isn’t an upgrade in confidence—it’s an upgrade in honesty.

    Manifesto 1.1 exists because I reached the edge of my endurance.

    Because I realized that surviving, showing up, keeping going—that alone wasn’t enough. I wanted to mark that reality. I wanted to name it.

    And I wanted to test something new: could honesty exist in the wild, outside of my own labor, and be supported by the people who resonate with it? 

    That’s all.

    Nothing more.

    No promise.

    No guide.

    Just a marker— a small experiment in trust and audience connection.

    The pay-what-you-want model with Ko-fi isn’t about money.

    It’s about seeing if people will engage with something that doesn’t instruct, sell hope, or claim mastery.

    It’s about creating a space for recognition without performance.

    I Don’t Know What Will Come of This.

    Maybe it resonates. 

    Maybe it doesn’t. 

    Maybe no one contributes. 

    Maybe someone does. 

    None of that changes the work itself.

    The realizations I wrote, the marker I laid down—it stands on its own.

    This is the first time I’ve tried this. And I wanted to share it because it matters to me to document it, even if the results are quiet. 

    Even if it lands in unexpected ways. 

    Even if the impact is invisible.

    So, Manifesto 1.1 exists. It marks a moment. It tests boundaries. And it reminds me—reminds anyone who reads it—that endurance isn’t enough, honesty is necessary, and showing up counts, even if it doesn’t move the world.

    A Note on Manifesto 1.1

    This PDF is a continuation of Manifesto 1.0 — a record of my reflections and realizations as I navigated endurance, constraint, and stagnation.

    It doesn’t promise solutions or hope. It’s a little grittier, a little rawer, because it names the limits of surviving and enduring for long stretches of time.

    “This is the artifact. It marks a moment. Support is optional. Thank you all the same.”

    Click Here to Read Manifesto 1.1

    If You Made It to the End

    If this PDF or reflection helped you, you can support the archive or grab a small sticker on Ko-fi — optional.

    Optional Sticker Here!

    Explore The Archives

    Below are my other artifacts you can explore freely here on this blog to compare how Manifesto 1.1 evolved from previous manifestos.

    Note:

    The experiment with Ko-fi didn’t fail, I rushed to do this experiment. I figured I had spent enough time online—writing, Canva, Procreate, everything—thinking 7 months later would allow me to try new things and seeing if writing honestly and producing a means to support the archives could co-exist.

    More than a week later, after I made my Ko-fi account, I wasn’t doing much with it. Once I’m able to create enough evidence for myself, make 2 artifacts outside of my PDFs that could be valuable to someone else, then I’ll come back to seeing how to support the archives outside of my own efforts again.

  • My Return to BJJ—One Year Later, as a Deliberate Live Stress Test

    My Hands Were Shaking When I Drove to Class

    It’s been nearly a year since I last stepped on the blue mats of my BJJ academy. According to my training journal, my last class was January 8th, 2025 — my 128th class — before I had to stop due to a back injury and financial constraints from a car accident. Returning on December 7th, 2025, felt like a long time, and I was nervous:

    • It had been nearly a year since I last rolled.

    • There might be people I wouldn’t know.

    • Some classes require students to be at least a 3-stripe white belt for participation. Thankfully, I still qualified as a 3 stripe white belt.

    While driving, my body reacted in unexpected ways: my left calf cramped, I started coughing, and I told myself, “Damn, my body is reacting because it’s nervous. Of all times to be bitching out, it had to be now?”

    After months of routine—work, sleep, errands, video games, and home training—I needed more than the usual grind. BJJ was closer to home now, and it felt like the right time to go back.

    ⸻

    Why I Needed a Stress Test

    For those unfamiliar, a stress test in martial arts, much like in life, is about safely pushing your body to see how it holds up under live conditions.

    Over the years, I’ve collected injuries and scars from inattentiveness, being caught off guard by others, or even my XXL pit bulls jumping on me. I wanted to know: was my body ready for live sparring again?

    Sparring isn’t the same as wrestling. You have to consider chokes, joint locks, and having someone’s full weight on you while pinning your back to the mat. Anything can go wrong. My goal wasn’t to dominate — it was to measure my physical and mental readiness after a long break.

    ⸻

    Walking Back Onto the Mats

    I parked, grabbed my keys and water, locked my doors, and approached the gym cautiously, like a baby deer taking its first steps. Looking inside, I exhaled a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. Familiar faces waved, which calmed my nerves.

    I sought out the professor who owns the academy, but a different instructor was running the class. He recognized me from previous sessions and gave me the green light to spar after the No Gi fundamentals class ended. I sat on the benches, trembling, pressing my hands together, inhaling and exhaling — then holding my breath because I forgot how to breathe.

    Once the class ended, I warmed up with jumping jacks to prime myself. The professor asked if I was okay rolling with a purple belt I knew, and I jumped at the chance.

    I’m not afraid to roll with someone who is bigger, stronger, more experienced, or more skilled than me. I get to learn, practice, and see what I can do, even if they go light to keep both of us safe from sparring.

    ⸻

    How the Stress Test Went

    Three rounds of six-minute sparring later, I was pleasantly surprised at how well I did. It felt more like I had taken a short break, not a full year off.

    Some mistakes were minor — I forgot the precise way to finish a rear choke — but I adjusted when reminded. I even executed an ankle pick sweep: pulling my partner’s ankles toward me while redirecting his momentum with my legs. It didn’t lead to a full reversal, but I was responding appropriately to pressure.

    My rolling style is defensive and strategic. I trap opponents, force them to waste energy, and conserve my own. I’m not explosive or dominant, but I’m patient, resilient, and precise. The stress test reminded me that physical strength isn’t the only measure of capability; strategy, awareness, and calm under pressure matter just as much.

    ⸻

    Reflection

    Returning to BJJ after a long break wasn’t just a test of skill — it was a test of confidence, patience, and self-trust. I learned that:

    • Time away doesn’t erase progress.

    • My instincts are still there; my mind still processes challenges.

    • Nervousness is natural, but preparation and mindfulness make it manageable.

    • Strategy and awareness often matter more than raw strength.

    ⸻

    One Question to Sit With

    Was there a moment in this piece where you thought, “Oh — that’s familiar”?

    You don’t have to explain it. Even recognizing it quietly is enough.

    ⸻

    Thank You for Spending Time with the Archives

    If you enjoyed reading this reflection, I’d love for you to like, subscribe, or share with someone who might appreciate it.

    You can share your thoughts in the comments below to start a discussion, or you can do so anonymously at the archives email, whatimtryingoutnow@gmail.com.

    Otherwise, if you prefer, you can reflect silently and carry your thoughts forward — either way, thank you for spending time with the archives. Your attention and energy mean a lot.

    ————

    Explore The Stratagems Archives

    If this article piqued your interest, then check out the archives below:

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

    What Did I Notice In The Past Month?

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

    Truthfully? I didn’t notice much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Thanks, Ma and Dad.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    If You Made It to the End

    If you found this reflection helpful or interesting, I invite you to like, subscribe, or share it with someone who might enjoy it.

    Or If this landed for you in any way:

    You don’t need to explain it or respond.

    Quiet Nod

    Explore More of The (Primal) Archives

    Gifts of The Archives

  • Letters From the Void #5: ‘Tis the Season of Procrastination — November Edition

    Welcome, Fellow Archivists, to another irregular update from The Stratagem’s Archive. A lot has been happening behind the scenes — not all productive, but enough to share, especially since it ties back to my earlier post, What If Everything Just Stopped? What’s Next for The Stratagem’s Archives?

    I’ve recently taken a few steps back from posting consistently like before. My mind needed a break from the creative burn-out I dug myself into. Thankfully, the compulsion to constantly write and publish has dulled a bit, and I can think with less judgment — a nice feeling, though not the main point of this update.

    Procrastination, Projects, and ChatGPT

    Instead of publishing like a maniac, I’ve been quietly cleaning up The Stratagem’s Archive — making it easier to navigate, compiling all 118 posts into relevant pages, and finishing my ebook.

    I went into this thinking, “I can do this in a dedicated day. It’s going to be easy!”

    Nope.

    Instead, your grade-B dumbass here (emphasis on the B) hit multiple creative speed bumps:

    • Messing around with ChatGPT while contemplating the point of flirting and attraction because my asexual, inexperienced, and socially awkward ass needs explicit communication.
    • Finishing six half-done ebook drafts on Canva and avoiding them like they were cursed.
    • Printing two more sticker designs because, well, they exist now.
    • Printing 50 official blog/business cards to feel “professional.”
    • Staring at my iPad like it owed me rent money.

    The Art of Resting Without Quitting

    Here’s what I’ve realized: procrastination isn’t always the enemy. Sometimes it’s your brain saying, “maybe I don’t need to be in survival mode 24/7.”

    I’ve spent months building, writing, and publishing like my existence depended on it — and maybe it did, in a way. But there’s a difference between living to prove you can and living because you want to.

    So if my projects take longer to finish… if I stare at a blinking cursor longer than I write a sentence… if I talk to ChatGPT instead of publishing a new post — that’s okay.

    I’m still here. Still showing up in my own way. And maybe that’s what growth actually looks like: slow, unglamorous, and perfectly imperfect.

    Reflection for Fellow Archivists

    • When was the last time you let yourself pause without guilt?
    • How do you balance productivity and self-compassion?
    • What small progress can you celebrate this week, even if it feels like nothing?

    Take a moment to sit quietly with these questions, or maybe jot down a few thoughts.

    Closing Note

    If this newsletter made you laugh, sigh, or feel a little less alone in your creative chaos, give it a like, share it with a friend, or just let it linger in your mind for a bit.

    And to everyone who keeps reading, commenting, subscribing, or simply following along quietly — thank you for spending a small piece of your time here, in The Stratagem’s Archive.

    Here’s to all of us learning to rest without quitting, one messy draft at a time.

    Check Out Past Letters Below

    Letters from the Void Newsletter

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

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto 1.5: You’re Not Falling Behind—You’re Growing

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto 1.0–You’re Not Falling Behind—You’re a Work in Progress

  • 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

  • One Foot in the Grave and a Christmas Tree in My Face

    2026 is Fast Approaching, Fellow Archivists.

    We Didn’t Get Through the Other Holidays Yet!!!

    My pet peeve went off during my morning shift yesterday and I was already in a bad mood; I was trying to sleep in my car before my shift started and someone was revving their damn car, blasting heavy bass and rap music through their speakers.

    I woke up pissed because I just wanted to rest a little while longer and my alarm was about to go off in 5 minutes.

    I yelled from the inside of my trunk for whoever that was to shut the fuck up, but there was no way anyone could have heard me with how loud, and how shitty the music playing, it was.

    I struggled to sleep in my studio the night before—my mind was playing tricks on me because I kept seeing a shadow by my couch and clean clothes basket I didn’t fold yet from the corner of my eye. My mind was already tense from reading a, well I think it’s a really good story, WebToons called, “44th Period: Survival Class,” by sangC.

    With how far I read and the types of monsters: how they were written, drawn, and trying to figure out what school rule was twisted into a monster, my mind kept reeling back to the parts where each monstrosity was encountered.

    (Trying not to spoil too much, even though I doubt anyone who reads my stuff would read WebToons, but I’m just sharing enough to be sure. Also, I’m not affiliated with this comic or the creator, but I really like how fresh the ideas in this suspenseful, survival, horror story it is. Anyways, back to the reflection).

    My mind kept racing and I kept a light on to keep the dark, and my thoughts from diving too deep into what I thought I was seeing.

    So, What Bothered You This Time, Archivist?

    So, what happened was, after I woke up ready to flip whoever’s car that woke me up on its head, work started. I was one of the people responsible to separate and push the freight to the appropriate destination.

    Today wasn’t as hectic as it usually can be. HOWEVER, the thing that triggered my pet peeve was this: this month is October.

    What happens in October? Halloween. My favorite holiday, even as an adult. Since it’s spooky month, I saw something on the conveyor belt that made me lose my shit more.

    A damn inflatable Christmas tree.

    My Christmas Tree Rant

    I followed the box a few feet and was tapping my fists against the box while ranting in rhythm to my fists tapping the box.
    A CHRISTMAS TREE!!!

    WE HAVEN’T GONE THROUGH THE OTHER HOLIDAYS YET! WE DON’T NEED TO SEE CHRISTMAS YET!!!

    Then, I walked back to my post and forgot that the Christmas tree existed. Already having gave the box a thing or two of my mind was enough and it was back to work.

    That’s Why You Were Losing Your Mind Over?

    Yes, I was losing my mind over this is pretty reasonable. Like, I get people don’t know that people might be sleeping in their cars, so they just blast their bass to the absolute max, and my alarm was gonna go off in five damn minutes when I was rudely waken up.

    But the worse of it was seeing that stupid Christmas tree. Like, “damn, we didn’t even get to Halloween or Thanksgiving yet, and people already want Mariah Carey to thaw early this year?

    Nope. No thanks. Let me have my spooky month without the other holidays, and being reminded of the new year, getting in the way.”

    Why can’t we all just take a breather and appreciate each holiday without having to rush to the next one? You know what else we’re rushing towards if we don’t stop this bullshit? Our graves.

    Yup. We’re already one foot in it, so let’s back peddle real quick, huh? I sure as hell don’t want to listen to, “All I Want for Christmas is You,” on a loop from hell.

    People. Why Are You Running to 2026 Already?

    I can’t get it through my head why people just want to rush through the (major) holidays like a speed run in video games. Is rushing to the next year really going to help you achieve whatever goal you struggled to get this year? Like, damn people, let me enjoy my discounted Halloween themed chocolates before you shove me with you.
    The only time where I would like to speed up is when I’m working.

    I just want to go home to write, reflect, play video games, stare at my tv because I died. Again. Cook me food, or just listen to music because work won’t let us play music again.

    Other than that, seeing how we’re not safe from time’s continuous march forward, I hate how even the holidays are being rushed, like a kid blowing out a birthday cake not theirs. Those frustrate me too, but I digress.

    Can’t we just appreciate the days as they come—no future prepping for things ahead of time, no kicking the month’s holiday off of it’s pedestal before it even got a chance to sit down—and be like, “man, time is moving pretty fast. What have I been doing this whole time?”

    We’re one foot in the grave already — so why are we sprinting to the next holiday, the next year, the next thing?

    Slow down. Smell the pumpkin spice. Listen to the creak of your haunted decorations. Time isn’t going anywhere, but you are.

    Don’t let that slip from your mind or, by the time you know it, you’ll really be fully in your grave.

    Let’s Wrap It Up, Everyone.

    Even in the chaos of blaring music, misplaced holidays, and life racing ahead of us, these moments — small irritations, fleeting frustrations, and midnight reflections — remind us to slow down and notice where we are.

    They’re part of the archive too, a record of our minds, our lives, and the little battles we fight just to keep standing.

    Maybe it’s a reminder that amidst the noise, we can still carve out space to breathe, to reflect, and to exist on our own terms.

    If this piece spoke to you, resonated in some way, or even made you smirk at the absurdity of rushing through life: like, share, or subscribe.

    Take a moment to sit with this reflection — thank you for spending part of your day here in the archives.

    You’re always welcome, Fellow Archivist, and your presence matters in this quiet, unfolding record of life as it is, not just as it’s scheduled to be.

    Other Reflections

    I’m Afraid of the Finality of the Night

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto 2.0: A Companion Ebook

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

  • I’m Afraid of the Finality of the Night

    A Companion Reflection to Rage Against the Spirit That Wants to Fade into the Night

    The Dread of Knowing and Seeing the End

    I can talk about raging against rules and expectations that don’t fit me; I can build whatever I can to have proof that I lived : through my blog, my little artifacts such as my stickers, my hoodie, my manifestos, newsletters, my mini ebook, and my business cards I’m making because why not?

    But when everything slows down, when the world grows quiet and the noise outside fades just enough for the noise inside to take over, I start to feel that fear again.

    Truthfully, I’m afraid of the finality of the night — that curtain call that says, “you’re done” for good.

    No do-overs. No begging or bargaining for more time. Just the stillness that comes after a life that tried its best.

    And that terrifies me.

    I can’t stop the clock from marching forward any more than I can stop the next sunrise. Every word I write, every post I publish, every idea I turn into something tangible — it’s my way of buying back the borrowed time I’ve got.

    I’m not trying to outrun death; I’m just trying to make my life mean something before it finds me.

    My Physical and Visceral Reminder

    This morning, I woke up in pain. My chest felt like it was caving in, as though someone had kicked me hard and left their mark behind. The kind of pain that forces you to remember you have a body — and that the body has limits. I almost called in sick, that was how much pain I was in. I almost didn’t want to get out of bed.

    But I did, because I had to start moving and the day didn’t start long enough to be done with me yet.

    And maybe that’s the strange blessing in it — the pain reminded me that I’m still here, suspended between being alive and the inevitable.

    It’s both horrifying and grounding.

    What unsettles me more is how many people seem fine with this march toward nothing. How easily they sleep while the world keeps collapsing in slow motion.

    Maybe ignorance really is bliss. Maybe I just see too much. Or maybe my rage and overactive mind are reinforcing what I value over the usual socials scripts.

    My mind won’t stop mapping every small end to the larger one — every silence, every ache, every undone thing that might’ve been enough, if only there was more time.

    But time is finite for us mortal things, suspended in space. So, I’m still doing what I can to reduce the amount of regrets I’ll have at the end of my life.

    I’m still learning to accept: fear doesn’t mean failure. It’s proof that I still care enough to stay awake while everyone else sleeps.

    Maybe that’s what living is — not escaping the night, but refusing to let it take everything with it.

    Reflection for Readers

    If anything I said this early dawn resonates with you — if you’ve ever felt the same dread settle in your chest when the world goes quiet — then maybe you’re not alone in it. Maybe you’re just human, still trying to make sense of the noise.

    If this reflection spoke to you, consider liking, sharing, or subscribing to The Stratagem’s Archive. It helps this small, growing corner of the internet reach others who rage against the quiet too — the ones who build, create, and keep searching for meaning even when the night feels final.

    Other Reflections

    Proof I Made That I’m Alive