0xA89f3db42Cee7AC0cfFaa9ba6176f2574BA4071AThe digital version of me is just a slow-mo version of who I would be if this was my full-time gig.
Currently focusing majority of my talents on being a full-time dad
0x9A47B6f3b0Ee408bEa5B71a78F020bD450051384As I look in the mirror I tempted to beat my myself up for the man I have not yet become - like staring off into the horizon that never seems to get closer - but instead, I look back at what I have achieved in this life and I am blown away by how fucking awesome my life is. Not saying I have had it easy or never had to endure hardship - but I GET to look in the mirror, I GET to breath oxygen everyday, i GET to love my wife and kids like never before and i GET to share this legacy with those who will listen. Thank you tostoned for this journey!!
0x7ed9Cf5dBf2F68bD33Ea2c95eF2B4634976Ba7f8My online persona is authentic but diverges on topic of focus and how I engage externally. IRL focus is on family and business having to heavily engage. I do create in the shadows and rarely share (it’s for me). Online is a focus on art. Collect/view/digest with what I connect with and keep the engagement minimal sharing primarily for supporting artists. I come online as a convenient escape and have found it best to roll quietly to avoid the noise that ruins the escape.
0x773E46b1b1A9B0e976c1e6774350f84eDb40da42i am anon online, i am more free than real life
i can react emotionally and say things i regret. I can delete, "erase" my embarrassing moments if i like.
in real life there are no do-overs, and i am forced to deal with the consequences of my words and actions.
online i can be nice, complementary and supportive because it suits my selfish intentions, while in real life, i am usually the biggest jerk in the room, treating kindness as weakness.
many ways i am better online, many ways i am worse
if i could combine the good aspects of my online and IRL personas, i'd be a lot more pleasant to be around in both arenas
0xF035839DaaF652f03156B297a27EdA25a35e6316my online persona @64s is doxxed and largely does reflect who i am irl
however there are certainly differences -
i don't talk as much about crypto to irl people (lol they would not care to hear it)
my online persona can be antagonistic at times - its normally for engagement, but sometimes i will use my account to scream at the world in ways i can't irl
i have a secondary anon account which was moreso used purely to scream into the void - often unfiltered rage - used as a journal - not ever meant to be connected to me irl
i used that account to share my struggles with alcohol and to understand myself better. it's more honest than i would be irl - though i am quite honest irl - but it's more about the moments WHEN i was able to post (ie after 6 beers, when i would isolate myself irl) - i encouraged this to try to understand WHY
haven't used it in a while - 18 days no alcohol and counting
0xb0396C7b1102a978a87A863Fbca7FD095b933D58to be honest the inbetween me is probably who i am mots but who i know least.
i bounce between worlds but am trying to be a conduit that connects both through my work.
the reality is i just enjoy creating and building whether thats irl or in web3.
if i am able to create, no matter where i am, i am.
0xD41fcbB0e58cbEAe68b151e07bd8f991aFc5E1AFThis was the first time i looked in the mirror as yoyoslap and not my true self Much easier as he doesnt really exist Confident accomplished- is the digital world even real?
0x725A70b1847D1bF3Fbb7dcaf43880a9343F308beI have come to realize that the Internet version of me exists more as an amorphic piece of a greater whole. I am but a contributor to a vast and evolving culture, text on a screen. When I look in the mirror at my real self, I see my age, I see my skin, I see my experience. I'm not sure how this impacts my actual personality in either medium... but I will be more cognizant of that distinction moving forward. I think both versions of me are me.
0xA89f3db42Cee7AC0cfFaa9ba6176f2574BA4071AThe lake changes while I’m away.
The shoreline ebbs and flows.
Yet the cool depths remain familiar—
Friendships forged long ago, never forgotten.
Our waves still intertwined
0xbE58A1b85D11e2083BB7c5766284Ed7848448d1dI am myself in all aspects of life - digital & physical. I restrict information from those that I do not trust. Digitally, I trust much less than IRL, so I restrict more information online. But my thoughts I share are my own, not just following the crowd.
0x17976412E17DE10a247A442E4E2F0bbF27fBF317It still bothers me today that I didnt spend enough time with my grandma before she died.
She lived so close to me...alone....and I just feel like I didn't make enough of an effort. She's gone now & I'll never get that back. Hug your loved ones...call your family, you'll never know when the last time you'll talk to them will be.
0x66fF8F288C413e61c8Ee807088Ce301C03076e6EI regret turning away from you.
Releasing you to the enemy and allowing others to step on your name when I knew you clearly needed help.
I regret not calling you when the universe told me to a week before.
I regret more than anything in my life- seeing your missed call after you died.
It broke me. Completely.
You were screaming for help and no one was there for you.
On the night you died, you were backed into a corner, alone and frightened.
Asking for death.
I told you I would be there for you no matter what, I wasn’t.
I thought I was helping you.
I thought others were there for you.
I thought it was making you stronger.
God fucking dammit I was wrong.
You were born into pain
I thought you were used to it.
But life left you so broken and I was too fucking stupid to see it.
I regret watching the video of your death.
I will never be able to unhear your voice
Your tone.
Your fear.
You had always been the strongest person I knew and to learn that your strength came from those you kept around you, is a haunting truth I don’t think I will ever be able to reconcile with.
I regret not reaching out more to Ethan after you died. I was so caught up in my own pain that I let him slip away too. He overdosed in the morning, 4 months after you died.
Like losing my little brother I’ve known my whole life, even longer than you.
My heart shattered yet again.
Asking God why them? I felt I deserved to die in their place.
I regret letting these things affect my relationship with my wife and 2 daughters for almost a year.
I was a shell of a human being.
I could not be who they wanted me to be, at least not consistently.
It almost destroyed us.
It took every fibre of my being to stand up and fight to find my way back to myself.
Those three were there for me. They held me when I was weak and I will spend the rest of my life living to honor them for that., the same way I will live for Jared and Ethan.
***
We may not be able to go back and change the things we regret, but we can allow ourselves the grace to continue on for those who no longer can.
We all have proof of regret,
We live with it everyday-
It only defines who we are if we lay down.
Keep pushing forward.
Love you.
0x5fC13C5A541041f8fa12fab492D064435eB8d2F5My biggest regret was not being confident in myself, and not taking chances early on in my life. I am now making up for these regrets.
0xc0Bed358c1cB69ADF5684533E0935bE08107765bI regret not putting my oxygen mask on first...
For most of my life, I never gave myself the opportunity to develop a real sense of self. I was too busy trying eagerly and desperately to please others. I wore that eagerness like a personality, but really, it was a mask...
A mask that even hid me from myself.
I thought I was doing the right thing by being selfless, helpful, needed,...but in truth, I was getting further and further from who I was meant to be. I ignored what I valued most. I never took the time to ask myself what I truly needed. Instead, I poured my energy into solving everyone else’s problems… while quietly burying my own.
I had my own pain...both physical and metaphysical...but I sidelined the physical and pushed the metaphysical beneath the surface. Not just hidden behind the mask anymore…
Hidden within, under my skin.
Over the years, that buried part of me didn’t stay quiet. It tried to resurface. Not through healing, but through outbursts. Like gasoline floating on water, it was always there, just waiting for the spark. Certain situations were like striking a match. I didn’t always know why I was angry or reactive...but I see now that the root cause of so many of my regrets was that I was suffocating. My true self was fighting to breathe...
And in that fight, others got burned.
Now that I’ve finally started putting the oxygen mask on...choosing to care for myself first...
I can breathe. Though the damage isn't undone. There’s still gasoline in my blood. And even though I can care for others now, something in me resists caring for myself. It doesn’t feel right. Part of me believes I should still suffer. That I deserve the hurt...for the years of neglect... the years I betrayed myself and passed that pain on to others.
Sometimes, I still feel the urge to light a match and throw it on the gasoline...lash out and burn it all down...blaming the world. In the midst of this mess, I know my truth... I’m not angry at the world.
I’m angry at me. Because I was the one who let myself down... that regret lingers in the spaces between who I could have been and who I became.
0x773E46b1b1A9B0e976c1e6774350f84eDb40da42I regret to inform you that I have many.
The one I think about the most though, That brings tears to met eyes now as I write, and almost every night as I drift to sleep.
I met my girl on the side of the road, there was a whole kennel of puppies looking for a home. I stopped, and she left the pack in the center and stumbled over her droopy ears to come see me, and we played for an hour. I finally said goodbye, and spent the night convincing myself i did not have the time or schedule to properly care for her, as i was working long hours and lived alone.
I failed, the next day, i went back to bring her home.
I had many ups and downs with her. She loves me unconditionally as I worked those long hours, left her alone some nights. When I drank too much to give her the attention she craved. She was still excited to see me when I returned home, or took a break from my video games to take her outside, if only a few minutes, so I could get back to my drinks, or games.
I hated myself then and I hate myself now for it. But I don’t think she ever did. I always made her crawl in bed, or on the couch with me when I felt alone, scared, sick. And she did, she was like a shadow that fit perfectly in my arms and she loved it. But where was I when she needed me?
Years later I married my wife, and life got better for everyone. My wife worked from home and could give our girl the attention she needed. She became my wife’s shadow during the day, but when I returned home, sober now, she was mine.
After years of nagging but manageable health problems, she was diagnosed with a hernia in the stomach after a few weeks of what must have been very painful and invasive testing, false diagnosis and medications.
Finally she just couldn’t eat. Surgery was a very risky option, due to her age and location of the hernia. The last week of her life we tried to make her eat, so that we would be comforted knowing she’d be getting better if she could stomach food. I regret torturing her like that. As she would turn her head from her favorite treats.
The pain she was in kept her from sleep. Each time she would swallow some food we would rejoice, only to be gutted when it almost instantly came back up. She tried so hard for us. She was fighting for me.
On what would be her last night, she hadn’t eaten in days. Her stomach was bloated with gas. She was in pain. She whined and howled and paced. I moved a blanket out so I could lay on the floor with her. She would not lay down. She was trying to chew the carpet. She was clearly uncomfortable. Every time I got her to lay down and I’d doze off, she would wake me with her whines of pain. I would comfort her and rub her stomach till she stayed still.
I don’t know why, the last time I was woken up from her pacing and cries, I got angry, I gritted my teeth and yelled as quietly as I could to not wake my wife, to “stop it, lay down, and go to bed” I dragged her to me. I instantly hated myself for my outburst. I massaged her stomach and abdomen for the rest of the night to relieve her pain, but I will NEVER forget the look in her eyes when I lost my cool and scolded her.
The next day was better. She seemed to be improving. We hung around the home. During the evening, we watched tv as a family, all three of us on a blanket in the same room. As we got up to move to our bedroom. She didn’t move. I coulda t shake her awake. She was lifeless, but still breathing.
We rushed to the pet hospital, and they got her back from cardiac arrest. They brought to a back room to let her recover in an oxygen tent, but came to inform us this was likely the end.
When they brought her to the private room with us, she was still lifeless, but breathing. They laid her down by us, she cocked her nose towards my hand, then my wives, and then she was gone. She had said her final goodbyes.
I regret the time I wasted away from her. The time I was there, but too intoxicated to give myself to her. I regret thinking we could go for a walk tomorrow which of course got put off for another tomorrow…. Most of all I regret that in her biggest time of need, in a time where she was only fighting to live for me, I let her down. I got angry, and that look in her eyes when I snapped at her the night before she died, of shock, and surprise that the only one she had known her entire life would be so crass, and so selfish for a few hours of sleep, to yell and pull her back to lay down….
That moment haunts me every day of my life. The only source of unconditional love I ever received, the joy she brought me, the lifetime of fond memories, and in her dying day I was unkind and unavailable when she needed me the most.
0x6c687401062e4Ac418db572ed0aC4F59Fc00Bb1dI should have listened better, you were actually right
Whatever
You will remain a star shining and guiding me in the dark
0x555198f9D03CFE62f6520eC1eba90C20bd997705Ever since I was very little, due to intense and sustained trauma, I have bounced between a state of neurological paralysis and hyperarousal. 30+ years of this has left me in a very vulnerable state neurologically and psychologically.
I was unaware of all of this until recently in life. Little layers peeling back, revealing things my mind has hidden from me...protecting me from the intensity of all the things I have witnessed and experienced.
I regret taking the advice of others and trying to forgive those who maliciously took my innocence from me. Those who were supposed to protect me, to be my safety. They have ruined my life in so many ways, and I regret spending so many years in pain and trying to be a "good person", and forgive them when they have no remorse, and continue to do those things to others.
I regret not allowing myself to feel rage and anger for them. Those emotions have long been suppressed in me, and it hindered any attempt at healing or insight.
0x23602Ca06e977C86339FFddAd74966e824aB691eI have realised now that what we may see as a a failure in the short term, a regret, is actually shaping who you are. Do I have regrets? Yes, mostly to not be there enough for my parents, my brother, my daughter. But equally, this has made me the man I am today. So would I change a thing? I am not sure.
0x1C5762F9899B46c19d4C9B8FBDD38D35856227f3Letting alcohol and drugs control my life was the biggest mistake that I have made so far in my life. The time wasted on a barstool can never be reclaimed. But we learn from our mistakes and forge ahead stronger than before.
0x725A70b1847D1bF3Fbb7dcaf43880a9343F308beI was once supposed to play 18 holes with Vinnie Jones, just the two of us, and I got nervous and decided to bail in order to go to a work lunch. I haven't spoken to him since. It was a mistake I have never forgotten and never will.
Always just play the round of golf with the cool person if you have the chance.
0x24b861bAa0382EE7bB1d2e52d6C808678B808c83I think we all have regrets in web3. To some extent, I have to acknowledge regret of time lost by not just putting it all into Bitcoin and holding.
I would've made less money, but I would have had so much more time and reduced complexity.
On the other hand, there are people here I wouldn't have met. Art I wouldn't have seen. Experiences I wouldn't know I missed. These would've all been unknown regrets, impossible to prove.
0x60AF9b90ae9c0AA90be41012291d6259bba7c6c1I wish I would’ve spent more of my life looking outward and giving - rather than focusing on what the world can give me. I plan to change that moving forward.
0x056000DFf1Fa5f3cde5826317d5e8de0f88B70feIn the silent hush of dreams untold,
I buried my passion, chose paths less bold.
Settling into comfort, safe yet incomplete;
a whisper of what-if forever bittersweet.
But in this quiet ache, a lesson softly earned
never again to silence the voice that deeply yearns.
Though roads diverged behind, ahead lies hope, still vast;
regret becomes the teacher of courage built to last.
0x136C46665B05C68fF565578D012c5D63cef98192regret isn’t always obvious.
sometimes it’s just a glitch.
a memory.
i spent years wrestling with regret.
not for what i lived through,
but for the pain i projected onto others
while trying to survive my own.
addiction shaped me more than it cost me.
but it cost other people their peace.
that part, i choose to regret.
i don’t regret the struggle.
i don’t regret the journey it took to get here.
i regret the impact it had on others.
this piece is a reminder.
of owning regret.
of growing because of it.
of the weight of it.
let me carry it for you.
i can do that now.
0x7ed9Cf5dBf2F68bD33Ea2c95eF2B4634976Ba7f8Maybe they can see/hear me somehow. Maybe one day we meet again. Maybe a lifetime of love was the final message. But in this life, death separates us from those final moments that could have been had. For that, I deeply regret the excuses I made.
0xf2A5d9C71dDc45Ca98476d39F3dfC2f16DCCaB68My only regret is not understanding the permanence of my actions on another’s emotions, and in turn on my own.
0xcEd183f3eFe63C054f36BC2d701cFE4631e61f1AI am writing to you today to share something deeply personal and significant, as I believe it is important for you to understand the weight of my regret and my commitment to addressing it. Over the years, I have carried a profound sense of remorse for not being present during my children’s early years due to my work commitments away from home. This absence, I now fully recognize, was a significant loss for them and for our family, and I want to acknowledge this openly and honestly.
I understand that my choices during that time may have been perceived or discussed in various ways, and I take full responsibility for the impact they had. I was not there for their first steps, their first words, their school events, or the countless small moments that shape a child’s life and a parent’s role. I prioritized work, believing it was for their future, but I failed to see that their future was also built on those irreplaceable early years together. This realization has been a painful one, and it is a regret that I carry with me every day.
I want to be clear that this is not an excuse but an acknowledgment of my mistakes. I have reflected deeply on this, and it has fundamentally changed how I approach my responsibilities as a parent. I am committed to being present now and in the future, to making up for lost time as best as I can, and to showing my children through my actions how much they mean to me.
I understand that you may be involved in this narrative as a third party, perhaps as a mediator, counselor, or family member, and I respect your role in this. I hope this letter conveys the sincerity of my regret and my dedication to improving our family dynamics. I am open to any guidance or support you can offer, and I am here to listen and learn from your perspective.
Thank you for taking the time to read this, and thank you for your understanding. I am committed to moving forward with honesty and integrity, and I hope this is a step in the right direction.
0x2592e904f21Ce308249A8FfB25e82e35C69DE163Regrets of non-action <compliance> and regrets of action <impulsive>. Maybe this can be controlled, maybe it wasn't meant to be so. Skeletons in a closet, locked in another universe. The game isn't over, try again.
0x44Ed32B27AeBf445c209DAb3EA7E3a9D50F37B2ASometimes, the true value of what we hold is only clear in hindsight, and the paths not taken echo with the whispers of opportunities lost.
0x5a8116f07937394e6Ac2A51995Ab6a054C08bF9eI’ve felt those empty doorways.
I’ve heard the silence after unsaid things.
This step feels small, but something’s shifting.
Maybe that’s enough—for now.