This is my journal entry from August 5, 2025, part of my daily autobiography Author in St. Petersburg — my real, unedited days, published in order.
Last night, after recording my diary, I spent hours working in ChatGPT, running through transcripts and ideas. One suggestion stopped me in my tracks: a book title, I Was Famous on the Internet. The moment I read it, I knew. That was it — the perfect first full book to write. It would tell my story in a way that appeals to multiple audiences: content creators looking for insight, nostalgia seekers wanting a slice of internet history, and even people who don’t care about online fame but know me personally. This is a story they might actually want to hear.
After weeks of circling around, unsure where to begin, I finally have my answer. These diaries have been invaluable for fleshing out ideas, and I’m grateful I can use technology like ChatGPT without becoming consumed by it. It’s a tool — helpful, productive — but it doesn’t hook me the way the internet once did.
This morning, I wrote a letter to my brother explaining why I won’t be attending his wedding. The process was therapeutic, and I shared about it at my Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. I realized today was the right time to do it — to be direct, clear, and move forward.
The rest of the day turned into a purge. I’d listed six items on eBay last night; by morning, three had sold, and another sold later in the day. That meant two trips to the post office. I laughed at myself trying to ship the Ableton Push 3 MIDI controller, jamming it into a flat-rate box that barely fit. The clerk helped by shoving another box over the end, which tore immediately, so we taped it together. It cost $44 to ship. I sold it for $575 after originally paying $1,000, which I was fine with. I enjoyed using it, and the whole absurd scene was funny in its own way.
Selling things always reminds me of the overlooked question: how will I get rid of this later? Today that was especially relevant when I drove to Guitar Center to offload my M-Audio Oxygen Pro 61 keyboard — nearly full size, and about $100 to ship. That made selling it online impractical. Clearwater is a 30-minute drive each way, but they gave me $120 for it, which is about as good as I could hope for without using Facebook Marketplace (which I refuse to touch) or OfferUp (which feels dead in St. Pete).
I also went to yoga this morning, where the instructor opened up about a friend who’s dying. I deeply respect when people share personal struggles instead of keeping them locked away. To me, sharing is an act of connection — an invitation for others to see you, understand you, and respond with compassion or advice. Keeping everything private often just prolongs suffering. Some things are better processed quietly at first, but as humans, we’re social creatures. We’re meant to help one another, not live as islands.
I told her about one of my best friends from college who died of colon cancer about a year and a half ago. I chose not to attend his funeral because I knew my old college friends would be there and would want to go out drinking afterward. It was a seven-hour drive, and the thought of being surrounded by that scene didn’t sit right. After eleven years sober, I don’t want to put myself in situations where people are drinking heavily. I respect myself enough to set that boundary, and I respect others enough to avoid being the sober buzzkill in the room.
Today was a good day — the kind where clarity hits. I have my title, my story, and the foundation for my first fully written book.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.