Let me take a step back for a second and really process what happened, because I think that’s the only way I can move forward properly. Late February was the turning point. That’s where things started to shift in a way that I didn’t fully understand at the time. I made a decision to reach out to someone that, deep down, I probably shouldn’t have reached out to. Not because they’re a bad person, but because of what that connection represented for me mentally. It wasn’t stable.

After the past couple of weeks, I feel like I’ve been given something I didn’t expect—a new lease on life. Not in some dramatic, cinematic way, but in a quieter, more reflective way. The last two weeks were chaotic, exhausting, and honestly overwhelming. I went through midterms, back-to-back stress, and moments where I wasn’t functioning at my best. But now that I’m stepping back and looking at everything that happened, I feel like I’m being given another chance to make thing

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 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

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

Introduction: The Weight I Carry This year hasn't been kind to me. But honestly, I don’t think I expected it to be. What I did expect, though, was to make a choice and follow through — to either pursue school or dive straight into the workforce. That was the plan: be decisive, intentional, and take charge of my life. But if life has taught me anything, it's that plans rarely go as expected — especially when you're tired. And this year, I’ve been tired in a way that runs deepe

Life is getting more hectic, and I’m finally starting to realize why. It’s not because I’m doing too much, or because I’m not smart...

Last month, I declared it would be a season of intentionality. I had every intention of releasing my album in June, but here we are....