You did it. After days, weeks, or perhaps months of consistent effort, the trial period is over. Your pact is complete. You published the hundredth blog post, wrote daily in your journal, or attended improv classes eight weeks in a row. Or maybe you didn’t carry out the experiment as planned. Either way, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you

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This is a practicing self-memoir, recorded as an inconsistent logbook. This is my junkyard of will to live. Its ability to contain raw honesty and portray life's imperfections keeps me going. It makes me feel liberated and autonomous over my current meager life. It's a sanctuary for my literary authenticity.