The Stratagem’s Archive

Tag: Writing Journey

  • 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

    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.

  • Letters from the Void: What Have I Got to Lose?

    No One Asked, But I’m Doing It Anyway

    Hey there, Fellow Archivists,

    I’ve been working on something behind the scenes; something different than my usual posts, stickers, and even hoodie: my first ebook.

    Let me be real: I’m not an expert. I have no degrees, no viral content, and no corner office either. And, you know what, that’s okay.

    What Do I Have?

    It’s okay to not have a lot of things because what I do have makes up for it. I do have:

    • Stubbornness
    • Spiteful rage
    • A refusal to stay the same
    • A willingness to try
    • A curiosity to see what I’m capable of

    That’s what this ebook is: me starting something anyway. Building anyway. Learning as I go anyway.

    Here’s a Tiny Peek:

    “This is the question I asked myself when life got loud enough that I couldn’t ignore it anymore: What have I got to lose?

    It started as a whisper, a thought I brushed aside while I kept grinding through the motions of work and just surviving another day. But it simmered. By the time my grandpa’s funeral came around, it was shrieking in my head.

    He wasn’t old. Too young to be gone. I half-expected him to sit up and laugh like it was some bad joke. But the casket closed, and it was final. No more birthday lunches, no more music, no more teaching me how to cook. Just memories—and the weight of the regrets he had confided in me while he was still here.”

    Who Is This Book For?

    This book is for anyone who’s:

    • Tired of being stuck
    • Over being underestimated
    • Done waiting for someone else to give them permission to start

    It’s not about looking perfect or “crushing it.” It’s about showing up. One small, stubborn step at a time.

    I’ll be sharing snippets, chaos, and updates as I go. For now: it’s happening. Doubt doesn’t get a vote. Not again, even though it’s a familiar companion in my life.

    Thanks for being in this corner of the internet and writing void with me.

    —The Stratagem’s Archive

    A Call-to-Action

    Follow the chaos. Keep checking back. Keep in mind, those who are already subscribed will get these updates first and straight into their email inboxes before everyone else. If you’d like to get these updates before anyone else, then subscribe to catch the next post before it disappears into the void.

    Other Newsletters From the Void

  • 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 Challenge Completed—29 Hours Later—Here’s The Breakdown

    Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here

    I stepped away from writing for 29 hours, and instead of losing momentum, I found rest, rhythm, and a lesson in sustainable consistency.

    What I Learned From My Own Challenge

    When I set myself the challenge to step away from writing for 24 hours yesterday, Challenge Unlocked: Taking a 24 Hour Break From Writing (and My Blog Stats), I thought it would be brutal.

    Writing has been part of my daily rhythm for months now, and the idea of cutting it off felt like I was about to starve a part of myself. And yet, I wanted to test whether I could actually rest without collapsing into guilt.

    It didn’t go as planned.

    I didn’t stop for 24 hours — I stopped for 29.

    The First Hour: Temptation

    Within the first hour, I was tempted to grab my iPad and check Jetpack. My brain screamed, “You’re going to fall behind! What if someone finally finds your blog today? What if you miss momentum?” But instead of giving in, I decided to redirect that energy.

    I cleaned the bathtub, scrubbing away calcium buildup until it looked brand new — something I hadn’t done since moving in six months ago. It was strangely satisfying, like I was scrubbing my own headspace clean too.

    Finding Rhythm in the Pause

    After the bathtub came the dishes. Then I took my car to the mechanic, spent hours with my family, brought my Ma back to my apartment to relax, and ended up at Cheesecake Factory for a late lunch with my parents. We actually stayed off our phones, told stories, and I ate everything on my plate for once.

    Back at my apartment, I stayed up playing, “Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice,” while I let my parents rest for an hour or so. Later, I swapped out my shower curtain and discovered black mold growing on the old one — a quiet hazard that I’d been ignoring. Now, it’s gone.

    And somewhere in between playing Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice and hearing my family laugh over stories, the temptation to write faded. I didn’t feel the compulsion of needing to miss it.

    The Outcome

    What I thought would be a white-knuckle fight turned into a rhythm. It wasn’t hard once I committed. I didn’t feel empty; I felt lighter. I wasn’t dragging myself forward anymore, I was actually living.

    I came back recharged, not restless. For the first time in weeks, my writing didn’t feel like survival. It felt like choice.

    The Lesson

    Consistency is important — but consistency doesn’t mean never resting. It means showing up sustainably. Stepping away for 29 hours didn’t break my streak. It gave me the breathing room to keep going beyond day 50, day 100, or however long I choose.

    I didn’t fail my challenge. I redefined it.

    Reflection for You

    Maybe you’ve felt the same pull — the guilt of stopping, the fear of losing ground if you pause, the voice that tells you momentum is everything. But what if rest is part of the momentum? What if stepping away makes you stronger when you return?

    If any of this resonates with you, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Drop a comment, share this post with someone else who pushes themselves too hard, or subscribe if you want to follow along as I keep experimenting, reflecting, and raging against the small boxes the world wants us to stay in.

    Your support — silent or loud — helps others find this little corner of the internet, and it reminds me that none of us are really fighting alone.

    Gifts From Me to You

    Below you will find 2 of my manifestos, access to my newsletter(which subscribers receive personally first in their inboxes), and tangible gifts that I’m striving towards becoming reality. All which you can check out if you feel like. Thank you again, and I’ll see you all later browsing the archives.