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Things feel like they’re going downhill, and this isn’t something a simple song can fix. I just released the super deluxe edition of Tell Me the Feeling . Two extra songs, and one of them is called “Retrain My Heart.” That song is about teaching myself not to fall in love so easily. It’s about protecting my mental health by learning to be alone and not attaching myself to people who might not stay. It’s about discipline in emotions. And it’s crazy how life will test the exact

I’m not using AI to help me write this. I just want to be honest. Yesterday my professor got onto me. He was disappointed. Not just disappointed — genuinely frustrated that I’m not far enough in my research. He also didn’t like that I’ve used ChatGPT to help organize my ideas and understand certain concepts instead of fully grinding through the papers myself. He basically made it clear: if I keep using AI in ways he doesn’t approve of, he’ll cut me off the team. That hit me h

I’ll be honest. 100% honest. I think my therapist might be right. Yesterday he asked me a question that most people can’t answer easily: Who are you at your core? That question hits differently when you strip away: • achievements • trauma • relationships • mistakes • public perception • even ambition It forces you to sit with yourself without your résumé. I thought I had an answer. For years, I’ve believed that because of when I was born — because of personality frameworks an

It’s 3 o’clock in the morning. I should be asleep. Instead, I’m sitting here wondering if I’ve been sabotaging myself. Not because I’m lazy. Not because I don’t care. But because I have too much to do. And when there’s too much to do, something in me freezes. I stay up late worrying instead of sleeping. I plan instead of executing. I overthink instead of organizing. I haven’t even touched the FE exam the way I should. But it’s not even about “touching the FE exam.” It’s about

It’s the day after Valentine’s Day. And I’ll be honest. Someone called me yesterday. They were checking up on me. It was kind. It was genuine. They said they missed me. The crazy part is they were on my block list, so I didn’t even see the voicemail until later when I went digging. When I finally heard it, I felt something. A little excitement. A little warmth. A little validation. But I could also hear it in their voice. They were tired. Tired, but still missing me. And that

It’s crazy that it’s almost March. Midterms are either here or around the corner. The semester is moving whether I’m ready or not. Time doesn’t slow down just because I’m overwhelmed. It doesn’t pause because I feel unproductive. It doesn’t care if I spent Monday watching YouTube instead of pushing my research forward. And that’s the reality I have to sit with. I just ate a whole sandwich, and now I can’t sleep. Too much food, too late at night. It’s small, but it represents

I don’t know. I’m just getting sadder and more depressed, and I can feel it happening in real time. Part of it is because I push people away—but in my mind, I do it for a good reason. I tell myself they were going to push me away first anyway. I’ve been rejected enough times to believe that before anything even starts, it’s already over. There was this one person I felt close to. We had a shared trauma bond, both struggling with our mental health in different ways. I thought

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what I really want my life to look like. Not the vague kind of thinking where you say, “I want to be successful someday.” But real, concrete thinking—with dates, milestones, and sacrifices attached to it. And when I strip everything down, I realize I do have a true goal. I want to be a PhD by May 2028. I want to pass the FE exam and become an EIT. I want to release my book in 2030. I want to become an Omega Psi Phi member after I finish

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about friendships. Not in a dramatic way, but in a quiet, lingering way—the kind of thoughts that stay with you even when you’re trying to focus on something else. There was someone who once told me they wanted to hang out with me. They mentioned going to an Indian restaurant together. At first, I didn’t think much of it. It sounded simple. Casual. Friendly. Normal. So I followed up. I emailed them. And they never responded. At first, I tried

Lately, I’ve been realizing something uncomfortable but necessary: I have too many goals. And having too many goals is not always a blessing—it can be a burden if you don’t know how to prioritize them. I’ve always been ambitious. I want to do research. I want to pass the FE exam. I want to release music. I want to write a book. I want to build a legacy. I want to graduate with a PhD. I want to be great. But greatness doesn’t come from having dreams. It comes from deciding wha

There’s a question that’s been sitting in my mind for a while now, and I didn’t fully confront it until yesterday: What do you do when you don’t feel special anymore? I wish I had a simple answer. I wish I could say there’s a formula, a checklist, a guaranteed solution. But the truth is—I don’t really know. What I do have is a thought. And that thought is dangerous, exhausting, and motivating all at the same time: If the world doesn’t think you’re special, why not prove that

I’ve always lived with a quiet but persistent fear: the feeling of being overexposed. To me, overexposure isn’t just about being visible. It’s deeper than that. It’s the feeling that people know too much about you—your thoughts, your next moves, your vulnerabilities, your private life. It’s the sense that nothing is truly yours anymore. No privacy. No mystery. No control. When you’re overexposed, it feels like your identity is no longer in your hands. It feels like other peop

It’s the middle of the week, and classes have just begun. Normally, this is the part of the semester where motivation should still be high—where routines are fresh and optimism hasn’t worn thin yet. But instead of feeling focused, I already feel behind. Unproductive. Uneasy. Worried about where my future is actually headed. I’m drinking too much coffee, trying to force energy that doesn’t feel natural. I know that’s a sign in itself. When I rely on caffeine to manufacture urg

We’re officially in a new year— 2026 —and I won’t lie, it feels different. It feels heavy, but it also feels purposeful. After everything I went through last year, I made a vow to myself that this year would be the best year of my life , not because things will magically be easier, but because I’m finally willing to do the work without excuses. Last year taught me something humbling: I’m not special. And I don’t mean that in a depressing way—I mean it in a grounding way. Non

There’s a lot going on this year. Too much, honestly. But if I’m being real with myself, there is one thing I need to do more than anything else if I want to put myself in the best position possible: I need to be quiet. Not quiet in the sense of disappearing or giving up — but quiet in the sense of moving without explaining myself , thinking before I speak , and keeping my inner life private instead of constantly externalizing it . I’ve talked too much. I’ve explained myself

PART I — Core Philosophy for the Year This year is about intentionality, discipline, and self-preservation . I am no longer living reactively. I am no longer waiting for validation, permission, or rescue. I am choosing to build my life deliberately, even when it’s uncomfortable. I’ve learned that: No one is coming to save me. Support systems are unreliable if I don’t first support myself. Growth requires discomfort, sacrifice, and consistency. I must protect my energy if I wa

Today, I want to talk about something that’s been sitting heavy on my chest — the end of the year, the weight of reflection, and the release of my EP Tell Me The Feeling , which I dropped on Christmas. Right now, it’s December 30th. The year is almost over, and whether I’m ready or not, I’m standing at the edge of something new. This year has been… hard. There’s no other way to put it. It’s been the hardest year I’ve had in a long time — mentally, emotionally, spiritually. I’

“Don’t sabotage yourself, don’t slip off track Tryna move forward, but life pullin’ me back.” This year has been one of the hardest years of my life—probably the worst. I lost loved ones. I lost friends. I lost opportunities. I struggled in ways I didn’t expect to struggle. I lived in constant fear: fear of damaging things, fear of damaging myself, fear of hurting others, fear of failing, fear of starting over again with nothing. There were moments where I didn’t even recogni

It’s literally the end of the year. Not the after-Christmas , fully shut-down, world-is-quiet part of the year — but close enough. Finals are done. The holidays have arrived. And I’m finally at a point where I can breathe for a moment, look around, and actually be realistic about where I am and what I need to do with my life. This year… This has been the worst year of my life. Not because everything fell apart — but because everything finally caught up to me. And now that I’m

My Political Thoughts Going Into 2028 First thing I want to say, and I want to be very forward about this: I endorse Kamala Harris for the 2028 U.S. presidential election. I’ve thought about this for a while, and she’s the candidate I believe will move this country in the right direction. I’ve grown up connected to the Democratic Party — like a lot of African Americans do — and I recognize the values that shaped me: fairness, progress, and community. I also have strong opinio