Notes to Self – The Diary of The Deranged Writer

Notes to Self XXIV

For those who have been following The Diary since February 2023, you have read my struggles with Steinermania. Almost everything reminds me of the craziest professional wrestler, “Big Poppa Pump” Scott Steiner. I even have a hard time computing simple math because my brain has been conditioned to remember Steiner Math instead.

That’s why it’s been difficult typing my first Notes to Self of 2026. Then again, I had to write this because the leading expert in Steiner Math has said something unbelievably profound on X (the social media site formerly known as Twitter), even if it’s wrapped in typical Steiner promo fashion.

Notes to Self XXI

Of all the 14 Days of The Deranged Writer birthday blogging marathons I have done since the beginning of The Diary, the 2025 edition (this year) is the most memorable in terms of content quality. For 14 straight days, I wrote four acrostic poems (one of them is related and dedicated to The Undertaker), five music-related posts, one essay about a once-haunting day, one Notes to Self post, and only three Minute Warning posts. Only three. I have reached an incredible feat.

Speaking of Notes to Self, after blogging for two weeks straight, I realized something worthy of a Notes to Self post. It’s about freedom of expression, and the responsibilities that come with it.

Notes to Self XX

I’m so excited for my birthday next week. (That’s December 5, for those who are asking.) And yes, my birthdays since 2020 have been lovely, but after all the joyful moments this 2025, I have never been beyond-cloud-nine excited for my birthday in years.

And on this 20th Notes to Self, let me share a quote that proves why my 2025 has been the happiest year of my life yet. And this time, this quote comes from my mind.