ⓘ Self-Introduction: Justin Yee — 2024 Edition

After a year of self-truth following a decade of anonymity, I’ll keep taking ownership of my experiences. This is my story so far.

What’s In A Year

1 year ago, I made a major decision — I started writing here. A month later, I’d use my real name. I was done living in fear of judgment — afraid of embarrassment for what I perceived as my peculiarities.

A decade from childhood to adulthood, in online pseudonymity, caused me to forget who I was. Everything was attributed to the letters and symbols representing me.

Throughout these years, I had many experiences. Connection and triumphs, for sure. But also poor choices consumed by emotions, relinquishing control to external influences. Plenty of mistakes, some worse than others. It was a habit I couldn’t break for ages.

By transitioning to my real name, I sought to claim ownership of the experience my names went through — and will continue to go through. The good and bad, the pure and not-so-pure, and everything in between.

Through this, I also claimed my work and thoughts as unequivocally mine.

I wanted to regain that feeling.
It’s the sense of self — of being a person again.

Even with the flaws that come with it.

I feel different than I did a year ago. I’ve discovered truths about myself and the experiences I’ve gone through. And I’ve moved past some pains in the process through understanding.

External influences sway my thoughts less. The pressures that once crushed me have lessened as well. I hesitate less, believe more, and trust my ability to do my best.

Of course, this isn’t the fairy tale ending. It’s not a binary on/off switch, but a progression from one state to a better one. And that’s something I hope will continue in this next year— to keep discovering my truths.

After an unfathomable 150,000+ words of reflection, and a year of drastic transformation, I suppose it’s time to re-introduce another version of me to the roster.

Re-Introduction

Hello. My name is still, Justin Yee.

My hometown is San Francisco, California. I lived there for 13 years, before moving away. I returned to go to college before the pandemic shut everything down.

I’ve always been quiet. I hardly ever smiled, as evidenced by every photo of me. Anxiety exponentiated my already existing RBF, plus, I thought my smile made me look demented.

I had many friends in elementary school, coincidentally, all girls. Two in middle school, coincidentally, both guys. But ever since graduating there, I haven’t made friends outside the internet again.

That’s just shy of 10 years ago, as of the time of writing. June 2014.

High school was the worst period of my life, where I was an outcast — before now. Combined with teenage angst, it was a living hell at most times, though there were some nice moments toward the end.

The feeling of always being looked down upon. It was also when my worst mistakes took root and infested me for years. I don’t have many fond memories from that time. Or many memories at all, for that matter.

College was the turnaround period. Maybe I was homesick too, missing the city life. Public transportation, fun events. I was an extreme introvert, so I didn’t explore most of the city. But it felt right.

Thrown into that new environment, it was daunting. But it got me in proximity with others, and despite my awkwardness, I became acquainted with many people.

But of course, fate wouldn’t have that.

A once-in-a-century pandemic severed all those connections — of what could’ve been friendships. The rest of my education was spent sitting in front of a screen.

I graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in Computer Science in 2022. I’m still unemployed. The two-year mark is approaching quickly. As for what I can do, I have no clue at this point.

Everywhere feels closed off, it seems like I’ve tried everything. Doomscrolling for platitudes and generic advice to “just do this” tanked my sanity further.

Because clearly, my life was a math problem to be solved and have all figured out. Results came guaranteed from actions, and I was just refusing to do the right thing.

Following advice worsened my situation— I embarrassed myself with fakeness — saying and doing because I was “supposed to.” I’ve had tons of negative experiences, applications thrown into the wind.

I’ve only had like 5 interviews in total. Six, if you count the one canceled an hour before without any email or notification, and never heard more from. And 2 scams I stressed and prepared for, only to find out their invalidity.

It feels like the more experiences I’ve gained, the fewer opportunities I’ve gotten. At this point, I can only think of starting my own business, as if it’s that easy.

What does that even mean anyway? Am I a business owner the second I register the LLC and add Founder to my bio? Some arbitrary metrics of profit? I have no clue, apart from the endless clickbaity headlines.

All I can do, is do what I can.

I’ve had a lot of endeavors and hobbies. I first tried visual novel development in 2017, without knowing anything. I never made a game, never wrote a story. And I was an angsty teenager with embarrassingly bizarre notions when I started.

The result built on that foundation, 4 years later, wasn’t great.

However, I gained experience in many areas. Music production using FL Studio, creative writing/storyboarding, graphic design, and creating vector art through two-point perspective techniques.

I realized I couldn’t do everything alone, and learned to get help. I worked on microwork sites to get the money to commission artists (a few thousand greenbacks). Through searching, I met great people. I wrote lengthy documents detailing the technical requirements, collaborating and improving my communications.

I’m embellishing, as I’ve become accustomed to doing in these years. So bear with me for a moment.

But yeah, I finished the first project and started on the second one. Things were going okay for the first year, I saw great improvement. Then I hit a wall hard.

I tried for another year, but couldn’t progress at all. Since it wasn’t particularly relevant, amidst the stress of unemployment, I had to give up.

I still gained knowledge from the project, even if it may never be completed. And through nearly 7 years of working on two of them, I realized… maybe I didn’t enjoy this.

I won’t let my status and situations define me. Perhaps I was once convinced by the world I was worthless, and death was the only destiny befitting me. I’d never be capable of knowing, learning, or progressing — my very existence was a travesty.

But just over 1 year ago, I began volunteering as a software engineer for a nonprofit in the wildlife conservation space. It was an environment where I was allowed to not know everything, and seek that knowledge while contributing.

During this time, I realized how simple things were when I was allowed to discover them. Concepts I felt were past wielded against me to demean my experiences, to make me feel fundamentally incapable or broken.

Everything was rooted in basic logic and human problems — though I suppose the latter was never a consideration in the modern era's interests.

Often, a single search filled the gap. I am not happy about how egregiously I was deceived. I didn’t know what I didn’t know, allowing assumptions to permeate my sense of worth.

Now I know — that I don’t know, and that’s okay. That doesn’t mean I’m complacent. I can be content in my trajectory, even if it doesn’t follow convention, or if I’m afforded privileges. I’ve found a place where I feel appreciated, contribute, and discover in time.

I know what I need to solve problems in front of me.
Not manufactured ones such as “proving oneself.”

I’m working on a mobile app project. I didn’t know how to but wanted to try, so I asked if I could do it, and now am doing it. One may call it “taking initiative,” but it’s just doing what feels right, when it feels right, and what I desire — contributing work to good causes.

These experiences were important to me in my realization. I like the narratives and storytelling of games, but I’m not satisfied with it. I want to create the supposedly “real” impact I lacked.

That’s my discovery through a journey 7 years in the making, through struggles and failures, I found my next personal endeavor. It’s a mobile app of my own.

I’ve conceptualized an unlikely matchup — a geolocation game to combine fun fictional narratives with influencing real-world cleanup initiatives and accumulating litter data.

Basically, a literal trash anime game.

Instead of spending years in futility, I’d create a minimum viable product and iterate over time. Since the app isn’t dependent on a full story, I can release it incrementally and keep motivated by seeing progress.

With games like Pokemon GO and Wizards Unite serving as reasons for me to explore in the past, the same could be done here. Maybe impact didn’t have to come at the cost of enjoyment.

Finally, I would move forward in my endeavors again.

But of course, fate wouldn’t have that either.

I finished an MVP in three weeks, including photo taking, uploads, annotations, and a basic game map. But then I found out Google Play added a new requirement that requires you to have 20 testers try the app for 14 days before you can release it.

This went into effect in November 2023 for new accounts, only a few months before I started. I was contemplating the idea last year but didn’t decide. If I’d paid the fee and made the account when I first thought about it, the requirement wouldn’t apply.

I don’t know 20 people, let alone 20 I’m comfortable asking for huge favors like this. I have no clue how to meet or interact with people in the digital age of loneliness. So I’m completely stuck again — and the one opportunity I was excited about is now out of reach.

Not to sound too depressing, but sometimes, it feels like nothing can go right for me in this universe. At this point, I’m used to it.

Apart from the techy savvy hacky jargon, I’ve tried numerous other hobbies. I’ve taken photos and videos since elementary school, so I have footage from 15 years of events.

I’ve spread a few stills throughout this writing, though it doesn’t scratch the surface of what I’ve got saved.

I don’t edit anymore, it feels like a fake bombardment of dopamine. I just use a script to combine clips and AI interpolation to get it up to 60 FPS. It saves spending $2000+ on a 4k60 camcorder. I guess software can help after all — making my digital memories more lifelike.

I’ve been trying to capture the Twilight Effect since 2019 — a giant cloud in the sky known as a space jellyfish. A rocket’s exhaust trail causes it just before sunrise or after sunset. I still haven’t seen it though.

I had an online crane game phase in 2021. I was obsessed with a site called Toreba, trying to win free stuff. I earned points through rewards, sometimes used free tickets, and won dozens of boxes of plushies and anime figures.

I only spent about $7 on that site over a year. Then $20 on a different one in celebration of graduation. Though in hindsight, not much to celebrate about now.

As mentioned, with my attempts to view the Twilight Effect, space is interesting. I’d take a trip to see the blue marble and experience the Overview Effect if it didn’t cost $100,000.

Maybe in a few years, it’ll be cheaper, if not safer. Similarly, I like air shows and aviation stuff. Jets were roaring above me every year when I was a kid. Some hate it, but I like it.

There’s not much else to say. 3D printing was a hobby of mine for a year or so. I have a Flashforge Adventurer 3. It’s sitting under my desk now, unused for ages.

When I did use it though, I printed a bunch of stuff. Figures from popular shows, statues, and whatnot. I made a big sword and glued the pieces together with superglue, and then epoxy. It just doesn’t hold though, so I can’t swing it.

Stupid lever-force physics ruining everything…
They should change the equation to MA = N₀ — FUN.

In a world where nothing seems to go right, everything feels futile and lost, I must remain true to myself. I once feared judgment, and taking ownership of my thoughts and experiences.

After all, I’ve been embarassing, and I’ll be embarassing again. I’ve been wrong, and I will be wrong again. I feared aspects of myself were weak or cringeworthy.

But I’m convinced no amount of judgment will surpass the pain of hiding away. To never display one’s natural self, to always uphold an image. To lie to the faces of every person I meet, and receive the same.

And to always fear those lies being exposed.

In a digital world robbed of genuine connection, sight of the future, and hope — all that remains is myself. My values, my beliefs, my truths. If I lose that, then I have nothing left.

I don’t contradict for the sake of refutation, nor believe for the sake of adherence. My thoughts and actions are my own, and will not be coerced by external influences.

Here continues a journey I embarked on. To discover these versions of me — starting from the moment I first lived. To uncover what comprised that carefree life I once lived as a child, and live it again.

It’s an expedition to find one’s own truth for the self, and no one but the self. And so even if these words, by nature, can never reveal my story in its entirety— I can do my best to try.

From the beginning, to the very end.