Hey, it's Yan...again

New name, same pen :)

I’ve been pacing my mind and twiddling my thumbs about what to say to you. Where would I lay the blame for my absence this time? But the truth is more straightforward than any prose I could spin to coddle my guilt. I let my delusions keep me comfortable. Keep me stagnant. Keep my gifts wrapped tight, gathering dust in some dark corner, I pretended not to see. The lies came easily: I wasn’t a good writer. My work wasn’t needed. It was time to be quiet, to make myself small, to let the stillness win.

But my anger loves me more than those delusions ever did.

The anger... scalding, relentless, and unyielding—directed at no one but myself. For not writing, for my absence, for letting the ink go cold. That’s what drove me back to the pen. Not inspiration. Not an aesthetically pleasing muse. Just the simple fact that I had grown tired of my own excuses. Wearied by the dance I’d been doing with my mind and spirit, the one where I pointed fingers everywhere but at the hands that held the pen.

This is where it ends.

Welcome to Brick by Brick: notes from the pocket. A more honest title for a more honest space. The old name carried too much apology, too much justification for why I wasn’t here. This one is about showing up. About the work. About building something that doesn’t crumble every time I step away.

I’m not drinking coffee anymore—my caffeine sensitivity finally got the best of me. I prefer green tea now. I wear my blue light glasses often, so my eyes don’t burn the way they used to. It’s December again, and my tea is at the perfect temperature, which means I only have five minutes to actually enjoy it lol. Everything feels fine on this side of the screen as long as I’m writing to you and for myself. Not performing and not apologizing, and not overexplaining.

Just present.

Thank you for holding space through every version of this… expansion. For being here through the silence, the false starts, the months where I went quiet. This time feels different—not because I’m promising consistency, but because I’m no longer asking permission to take up space or apologizing for my breaks.

You really do change at 30.

The work continues, brick by brick.

Yan 🪐🫀