5:44

 A Story by Craiko

 19 May 2025

 5:44

 Life is inherently painful for ninety-five percent of people. This is not to say that one can’t find happiness or fulfillment in life, although most will find that these things come at a cost. What I’m trying to say is that life sucks for most people, and I know no differently than anyone else in that matter. This document is not meant to be a depressing one despite what I just said; the reason for doing what I just did comes down to this: I was a mock trial kid in high school. The first thing you do in a case is lay down the facts. Then you lay down your arguments. First, we will start with my history and why I think the way I do. Then I will talk about my pain and why that pushed me to want to help people. This story is not about wallowing in pain; it’s about overcoming it.

 Before I do that, here are some ground rules that I set for myself. One is that I will not be naming myself or any other people. “Craiko” is not my birthname, and everyone else will be given fake names using a name generator. Two, no locations will be given, although you will probably be able to piece it together if you really wanted to. Three, I do not condone anything in this story unless I specifically say that I do. And number four is for you the reader, please do not seek out anyone mentioned in this book. These rules are simple and honestly common sense, with all that out of the way let’s begin.

 I was born in a small lower middle class family in the northeastern region of America. I had a normal family dynamic with a mom and father both in my life. Although I had four siblings, they were all much older than me. The youngest besides me was my sister, who moved out when I was around five. My brother would crash at my place when he needed a place to stay. My mom and dad both worked very time-consuming jobs, so I was placed into preschool. From this young age, two things would sprout: one of my greatest qualities and my greatest demon. I was a little antisocial until I met Blake. Blake was my first friend and would remain my friend for years to come. The reason we became friends is very simple: he made me laugh, and I made him laugh. I mean, we were five. What do you expect? My mom and Blake’s moms and I would become friends, and they would place us in the same summer camp, where we would hang out every day. I learned something special at that time: it feels really good to be happy, but it feels even better to make someone else happy.

 But this was not without its drawbacks. Now, I would like to preface this by saying that despite everything I will say, I wholeheartedly believe my parents tried their absolute best when raising me, and they busted their asses with jobs that treated them horribly. During my very early childhood, I gained weight. I was a “husky” child, or let’s be honest, fat. I was never really taught self-control as a child, and for the majority of my life, my impulse control was near zero. This would start a lifelong battle with me and myself over my weight. Blake was also a husky child, but during our early teens, he lost the weight. I didn’t.

 Me and Blake would be sent to different private grade schools, although we would still see each other from time to time. It was a lot less than it was before. Now I am a light-skinned man, and I mean very light-skinned. Despite this, the people in my town saw me as a Black man, and when going to a nearly all-white school, you can see what might arise. Now I was fortunate enough to not have been discriminated against due to my skin color. My weight, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. Now I had friends, but I was essentially the butt of every joke, and at times I did bring it on myself. Even though I know that most of them had no ill intent, I would be lying if I said it didn’t hurt my feelings at least a little bit. I would go home feeling sad, remembering every mean comment that was said. On top of that, I was never really paying attention in class, causing low grades, which my parents did not like.

 At night, my parents would be asleep in their room. I would sneak downstairs to use the family computer. Minecraft was the big thing at the time, and I was a big gamer even at that young age, but I only had a Wii. My friend Anthony told me that I could find videos of people playing Minecraft on a site called YouTube. Being a dumb kid, I just typed gaming videos into the search bar. I scrolled for a little while, being frustrated at not seeing any Minecraft videos, but I did see an interesting one. A let’s play of Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door. I managed to track down the first video and watch a few. I was hooked; the funny commentary of a fun game was legendary. The name of that channel was none other than Chuggaconroy, perhaps my biggest inspiration. I suggest you watch a few of his videos, but essentially he is as good as it gets when it comes to gaming videos. He brings a certain professional feel to what at the time was seen as a medium for nerds. And keep in mind he did all this on early internet with 11-minute time limits and very early editing technology.

 Chuggaconroy videos brought me joy, they still do to this day. While watching his videos, I would think to myself “I could do this”. I mean, I had my mom’s iPad and my school Google account. I also had a Wii with lots of games. To be more like my idol, I begged my mom to purchase the most recent Paper Mario game, Super Paper Mario, which Chuggaconroy had not done a series on yet. I uploaded my video on YouTube and got a total of 4 views, three of which were from me. I would record around ¼ of the game and upload it before my mom’s iPad broke, and with no way to record, I had to hang up the cleats. It would be a good while before I would try to do YouTube again, but this always remained in the back of my mind. Throughout my grade schooling, I would still watch Chuggaconroy and keep up with everything he would do.

 My grade school experience on the surface was pretty typical. I had some friends, got into fights, and loved playing outside during recess. This would change when I would enter middle school. During this short three-year span, I would lean heavily into a class clown persona I had built up. People would affectionately call me Big C, and I noticed myself start to rise up the social popularity chart at the school. I would no longer be the butt of the joke in my friends’ group; I was the one who made the jokes and all cards on the table felt good. I loved being the center of attention, everyone looking to see what I would say next. I wasn’t Craiko the fat nerd; I was Big C the funniest man in the school. Something you realize if you are ever a class clown is that people tend to only see you as that. When conversations would turn more serious— say girls, our parents, or grades— my words would hold little to no weight at all. I remember after school we went to Buffalo Wild Wings and I was in the middle of telling a story (that wasn’t very funny) and I was cut off by something completely not related. At that point I realized that unless I was making them laugh no one cared. No one caring about you feels empty; around this time something strange would happen I seemingly lost the ability to cry. When I would get written up at school my parents would give me a beating and I would not cry. My grandma passed away I would not, I would embarrass myself in front of my class and I would not cry. I do not know what that is and still happens to me this day. But this would start a question, that I still ask myself today: what’s wrong with me?

 So here where I’m at in life, I’m fat, lonely, and worse of all, I’m starting to develop an addiction to pornography. I neglected to talk about that because I am unsure about it, but like a lot of young people of color, I developed the addiction at a young age. It still affects me, and I will talk about it later, but know that I am dealing with this through all of this. On a seemingly average day, a classmate would show me something that would change me forever. He showed me this app called SoundCloud, and someone named Tory Lanez dropped a new song that was blowing up, “Ferris Wheel” featuring Trippie Redd. This is the song that introduced me to rap music, one of my biggest inspirations. I loved how real it was and the no-fucks-given attitudes of the performers. I am up and rather old, song “Touch the Sky” by Kanye West, and after listening, there was no going back. I was a dedicated rap fan. Kanye (he goes by Ye as of writing this) inspired me a lot, not so much what he’s doing today (God knows what) but his career during 2018-2020. A little background first. Ye would have a mental breakdown during one of his shows and go on a nearly 1-hour-long rant about his place in the world and politics. This rant spoke out to me for many reasons. Most people just looked at it and saw “crazy Kanye lol,” but I saw someone who had been through a lot and is trying to say how he feels, but no one cares. Ye would cancel his tour and go into hiding, and his career would be the lowest it has been up to that point. During hiding though Ye would start working on a bunch of things, he would executive produce a bunch of albums and drop two of his own “Ye” and “Kids See Ghosts” which would bring him back into the mainstream. After this he would go on the most insane run any artist Ye would have multiple clothing lines, listening parties, documentaries, cartoons and would drop Donda his best album and one of the best of all times. Ye doing all of this and still doing things like wanting to build housing for poor people inspired me. Maybe I can use my gifts to both help people and entertain.

 Being inspired and already having some experience with gaming videos, I would record myself playing Minecraft Skywars, a competitive PvP game, and upload it to YouTube. I was well into my first year of high school at this point, but this would start me trying to do YouTube seriously with my new channel “Craiko678”, which I would eventually change to just “Craiko”. Like most YouTubers, my first video was not good; it sounds and looks like it was recorded in the 70s, and the title was obvious not to toot my own horn, but I feel I was at least somewhat entertaining with my gameplay and commentary. Around this time, the 100 days hardcore would be at its peak, and I would upload Minecraft hardcore videos which would do alright. I would create a series called “Somewhat Scripted Review”. This would have editing, and I would try to go for a guy rambling at the bar vibe when talking about certain video games, although they were trash (so trash I later private them). It started my love for talking about video games. People would leave comments saying that they enjoyed it. People would leave comments saying that they enjoyed it which gave me an ego boost that I needed. I used this ego boost to be in the play at my high school. We were doing Clue which is a very show and a lot of people wanted in. Somehow I got in. I had a small but important role and I had a memorable death. After I did that people respected me a bit more. Things were starting to turn around for me.

 I made some friends during the play theater kids like me who also had similar experiences, and they became my main friend group. I would not tell any of them about my channel because I was embarrassed about my low subscriber count. Freshman year would come and grow, and sophomore year would roll around. When walking in the hallway, a junior would stop and say, “Hey, Craiko, wanna play rugby?” And from then on, I was a rugby player. Now, here is one thing: I was the most mediocre player on that team, but I was still glad for the experience. Rugby made me want to be a better man, it got me in touch with my religion, and created my want to have a better body. Now, the better body part was just for picking up chicks, but the wanting to be a better Christian part was real and I am devoted to this day although I falter at times. But Rugby was not as important as what it introduced me to the three most important days of my life.

 But first we must talk about how my high school experience was altogether, and I want to say first thing high school does not define you. This is a good and bad thing at the same time. You can have an amazing high school experience, friends, parties, sex, but the second you step out of there it can be straight to McDonald’s. Also, the opposite can happen. One can be a loser with little friends and no charm and go out and get a high-paying job. High school at the end of the day is about establishing skills. During high school, I worked on video editing and how to talk confidently both being important. I went to a party every now and then, also I ended up winning an award for one of my performances which was awesome. I was bullied a little sure but let’s be honest who wasn’t, I was not caught being a degenerate or my nudes getting leaked, the worst thing someone could say about me is that I was weird. I didn’t always have this positive outlook on my high school career until I went to Kairos.

 I was first introduced to Kairos through my rugby team. I was a sophomore at the time, and the rest of the team were juniors. The coach canceled practice because they were all going to Kairos. I was sad because they were my friends, and I couldn’t go, but I just shrugged it off and chilled for a week until I saw them again. When I saw them in the hallways, we talked like we usually did, and when I asked them how Kairos was, they would sing high praise. But when I asked them specifics, they could not tell me. Kairos is very secretive, and they don’t want people to know what they’re walking into. One year later, I was sitting in my junior religion class when ten senior boys who would be the retreat leaders walked in with flyers and passed them out. They were interest forms for that year’s Kairos retreat. My friends and I discussed the potential of going, and we all eventually concluded that we would. The day of, almost my whole class loaded onto one bus, and an hour later, we arrived at the cabin.

 The first thing we did was put our belongings in our rooms. Everyone got a small dorm and one roommate. My roommate was George, someone I knew but was not close with, but we had no time to talk because the leaders gathered everyone to go to the meeting room. One of the leaders spoke about what we should expect on this retreat. All ten leaders were going to give a talk, and after each talk, we would go into small groups of 4-6 to share our thoughts. After that, we would have some free time and repeat the cycle. My group leader was Pete, a rugby member who had first told me about Kairos. My group consisted of people I didn’t know well, except for Juan, who I hated. Our mutual dislike went back to my freshman year, but neither of us wanted to cause drama. That night, we had a few group discussions ranging from God to living life more meaningfully. The leaders told us things would get deeper tomorrow and that we should get some rest. At night, George and I debated the retreat. We didn’t hate it but didn’t understand the hype and went to sleep, ending day one.

 We woke to screams and blow horns on day two. People were yelling, “Wake the hell up!” It was a Kairos tradition to wake the retreat members in the loudest way possible. After eating breakfast, we attended our first talk of the day. This one was heavier—it was about addiction. The leader recounted his experience watching his mother spiral into alcoholism. A specific moment stuck with me when he described her picking him up from school drunk and speeding down the highway, forcing him to grab the wheel to save their lives. He ended the story by revealing that she still struggles with her addiction, and he had to cut her out of his life. During the group discussion that followed, we talked about family and how they can either make or break your life. Juan sat quietly, looking like he was holding back tears. Afterward, as the group dispersed, I stayed behind to check on him. He confided in me that the discussion reminded him of his grandfather, who had passed away. I could relate, as I had lost my aunt recently. We shared a hug, and he asked if I wanted to hang out later.

 That evening, Juan and I hung out in my dorm. George was there reading a book, and the three of us ended up spending the night talking. It surprised me how quickly the tension between Juan and me melted away. We talked about our families, school, and the struggles we’d been holding in. It was the first time I’d opened up to someone outside of my close friend group, and it felt liberating. I realized that my grudge against Juan was petty and that we had more in common than I thought. That night marked the beginning of a newfound friendship and a deeper connection with George as well.

 Our conversation was interrupted by a surprise announcement. The school’s principal, who wasn’t supposed to be at the retreat, entered our dorm and told us to go to the meeting room immediately. Apparently, two separate incidents had occurred. The first was a disgusting prank where someone had defecated in another group’s trashcan while they slept. The second was more serious—someone had been pressured into vaping, gotten high, and thrown up everywhere. The principal was furious and considered sending us all home. He ultimately decided against it, fearing the negative press it could bring to the school, but he made it clear that any further disruptions would not be tolerated.

 The events of that night created a strange tension among the group. While most of us had nothing to do with the incidents, the retreat’s tone had clearly shifted. During the next day’s group discussions, we focused on accountability and respect. Pete, our group leader, emphasized that Kairos was a chance to build each other up, not tear each other down. This message resonated with me deeply. It made me reflect on how often I had judged or dismissed people without truly understanding them, and it reinforced the importance of using this time to grow closer to my classmates.

 As day three unfolded, the retreat took on a more solemn tone. The final talks centered around forgiveness and gratitude. We were encouraged to reflect on the people in our lives who had hurt us and to consider letting go of old grudges. One exercise involved writing letters to those people, even if we didn’t plan to send them. Writing to my dad, with whom I had a strained relationship, was emotional but cathartic. It helped me see that holding onto anger was only hurting me. During the final group discussion, Juan and I shared our letters and found even more common ground in our struggles.

 When the retreat ended, we packed up and boarded the bus to return home. The atmosphere on the ride back was vastly different from the ride there. Everyone seemed lighter, more connected. Kairos had changed something in all of us. For me, it wasn’t just about finding faith—it was about finding community and learning the power of vulnerability. I felt more open to others, more forgiving, and more grateful for the people in my life.

 Looking back, Kairos was more than just a retreat—it was a life-altering experience. It taught me the value of empathy, forgiveness, and self-reflection. I realized how important it is to connect with people on a deeper level and to let go of the grudges that weigh us down. While I’m still on my spiritual journey, those three days gave me a foundation to build on. Kairos reminded me that life is about finding meaning, not just in grand gestures but in the small, genuine connections we make with others. It’s a lesson I carry with me every day.

 With this, we move on to graduation, both mentally and physically. This is the day society would start to see me as an adult, even though two weeks before, I had to ask permission to go to the restroom. I am now an 18-year-old male. Graduation was completely normal. I said goodbye to my friends and just kind of left no after parties, no smoking cigars. I just got in my crappy car and went home. On the ride home, I reflected on my time and how most people would consider me a nerd. I was a nerd, but a confident one who spoke well, and most people just thought I was a normal guy. I personally consider myself a nerd. Then I thought about how much I have grown since my grade schooling. I was once someone no one paid attention to who was coming home every day sad and thought about how many other people, older and younger, are going to the same thing. Then I thought to myself, “What can I do to help?” This is my purpose for YouTube. I wish to help people society sees as nerds or weird and help them achieve acceptance from society and themselves. I want people to take terms like nerd, geek, and outcast as badges of honor instead of insults. With my YouTube channel, I can create a positive community where differing opinions are not shot down and we have conversations instead of violence.

 After high school, I got a sales job to help me with speaking and being a more charming person all around. Not to brag, but I’m number one in the store currently with 1,032 dollars an hour. I have finally decided to get serious about weight loss, and I am currently fasting and working out on the regular. I still am not perfect, but I am trying, and this is really what I want to say to you guys. Whatever you do in life, try to give an honest attempt, even if it doesn’t work out. Live your life and do what’s right, helping your community while making yourself a better person. Good luck.