Chapter 1: The Basement Experience

The only affordable accommodation I could secure in the city was a basement apartment in Silver Lake, where I spent what felt like an eternity—though it was merely three months. This isn't an exaggeration for storytelling; these were times that felt saturated with thick, slow-moving honey. The experiences were so vivid and deep that I often found it hard to process everything happening around me.

In moments of sheer overload, I felt frozen, yearning for silence—sometimes for my sanity and other times to fully articulate my thoughts. The Silver Lake "apartment" was actually a basement with cement walls, lacking windows, heating, or electricity. I managed to run an extension cord through the house. To reach my “quarters,” I had to navigate down a steep cobblestone path with no lights to guide me.

When I met the landlord, it was clear that this was a precarious situation, yet somehow manageable. He was a tall man, weak from a meth addiction and severe liver damage. His body was a stark contrast—thin limbs resembling fried chicken wings, while his abdomen bulged like someone seven months pregnant. In a confrontation, he wouldn't stand a chance against me, and we both understood that.

He was primarily interested in collecting my rent each month to fund his partying lifestyle. It didn't take long to learn that John was an ex-male prostitute from New York, who inherited the house after his last partner passed away from AIDS. Once a beautiful home on Silver Lake's hillside, it had become gentrified and unaffordable, as John would lament, “the area was ruined by newcomers.”

Over the years, John had partitioned off parts of the house to finance his S&M parties. To use the bathroom or kitchen, I had to walk through his "bedroom," often interrupting gatherings filled with leather gear and other activities that made me uncomfortable. I remember bracing myself in the shower, trying to avoid the curtain and the unsightly stains that haunted the space.

John often spoke in disjointed sentences, his thoughts jumping erratically, yet there was a glimmer of kindness in his eyes. Despite his troubled existence, he sought love and acceptance, even if he felt unworthy of it. The basement reeked of neglect and despair, but I tried to mask my disgust to spare his feelings. I knew he was aware of his situation, and it seemed cruel to highlight the obvious.

All John wanted was a fleeting moment of happiness before it all ended. He even published a book about his life titled "Tina: That Crazy Party Bitch." I suspect he has passed away now, but he would have been proud to know I shared his story.

Occasionally, I would visit Casey, a heroin user, in his cluttered apartment filled with instruments. He was a talented musician who had lost his job due to his addiction. On his last day at work, he admitted to his boss, “I’m a heroin addict!” They would have kept him if it weren't for the legality of the situation. He was charming and talented, and his addiction did not define his essence.

We would sit side by side, sharing cigarettes and laughter amidst the chaotic atmosphere. Living in that basement, I often felt like I was trapped in a twisted version of "The Labyrinth," surrounded by characters straight out of a fantasy gone wrong.

Despite the chaos, I longed for relief from my circumstances. My best friend was thriving after graduating from law school, while I felt stuck. A haunting song lyric kept replaying in my mind: “Fuck off and die.” It perfectly encapsulated my feelings at that time.

Reflecting on those moments, I had hesitations about documenting my thoughts, fearing I might solidify them with ink. Looking back now, the transformation I underwent is remarkable. I graduated from UC Berkeley and am currently an MBA student, set to graduate in 2024. I’m in a loving, healthy relationship that has lasted six years.

I could never have envisioned my current state back then; I wouldn't have believed it. Yet, I held onto a flicker of hope, knowing that I was not worthless, despite feeling that way in those dark times. My future may still be uncertain, but I'm more hopeful now than I ever was during that period.

Keep believing in yourself. When life seems bleak, it often means that something brighter is on the horizon. Take it one step at a time, and you may be surprised by where you end up.

Chapter 2: Gratitude for Growth

Lately, I've been reflecting on my past, especially during moments of uncertainty about my future. A quote resonated with me: “Look back to see how far you’ve come.” It reminded me to focus on gratitude for my accomplishments instead of dwelling on past mistakes.

The first video titled "How I Negotiated A Post-MBA Salary and Title One Year Out Of College ––and then got FIRED" offers insights into navigating career challenges post-graduation.

The second video, "Basement Dwellers - Eric Bahn (Beat The GMAT)," discusses overcoming struggles in pursuit of success.