Starting the Journal

I left my parents' house at 19 to pursue my own path. I didn't have any money in the bank. I borrowed from my sister, lived with her in a two-bedroom apartment, paid her back, paid my half of the rent, and worked 118-hour weeks for about three and a half years.

During that time, I spent countless hours thinking about what I actually wanted to do with my life — beyond the standard Asian household dream of becoming a doctor or some famous lawyer. I pursued the goals I set for myself because I wouldn't have anyone else to blame but me. I wanted to be self-accountable.

I've driven 23 hours straight from Colorado to Michigan for my first job. I've driven 27.5 hours nonstop without sleeping from Michigan to Arizona for the one after that. I've lived my life pretty much the same way: I am driven when there is purpose. For meaning, I will pour my heart out.

Right now, I'm in a strange limbo. Everyone at my office got let go. The company is figuring out where to put me. I don't have a workspace. And I've been feeling stuck — like my production stopped after my Master's ended and my learning stagnated. I've been restless. Bored in the way that makes you look harder for something that matters, not in the way that makes you scroll.

So I'm building SortaLogic. I'm writing. I'm trying to close the gap between what I believe and how I actually live. I just published my first real essay — about human dignity and what happens when machines take over the things we built our identities around. It felt like the first honest thing I've put into the world in a while.

I always give my 100%, although that 100% varies depending on the moment. Some days it's a lot. Some days it's less. But the direction stays the same: become a better version of myself. If I can't help myself, how can I possibly help others?

That's where I'm starting from.