The Discipline No One Sees

Most people only see the wins. They see the highlights, the announcements, and the moments that look exciting from the outside. What they don’t see is the discipline it takes to keep going long before any of that exists. The work that happens quietly, without validation, before there’s anything worth celebrating.

For me, discipline starts early. I’m usually up by 6 AM at the latest, sitting on the couch in my living room with a cup of coffee, slowly waking up and easing into the day. Before my nine to five job even begins, I’m already working. I’ll check emails, pitch ideas, plan releases, and think through next steps while most people are still half asleep.

One of the first things I almost always do is check a few of my favorite producers’ YouTube and BeatStars pages. I’m constantly searching for new instrumentals, new sounds, something that might spark the next record. I do this almost every single day. Not because anyone expects it from me, but because staying sharp requires repetition, even when it feels routine.

After work, the setting changes, but the work doesn’t stop. Nights are spent in my studio writing, editing, and tweaking ideas. A lot of what I’ve learned has been self taught. There isn’t a team behind the scenes handling things for me. It’s just patience, trial and error, and showing up again the next day.

There have definitely been moments where I questioned whether it was worth it. Being a full time music artist today also means being a full time content creator. While I love making music, I don’t love the pressure to constantly post five to ten videos a day just to keep up with the internet. It often feels oversaturated and performative, and I’ve had to make a conscious decision about where my energy is best spent. I’d rather invest my time into building something meaningful than chasing short term attention.

There was one moment in particular where I almost skipped the work entirely. While creating the teaser video for Funko Poppin’, I spent four months editing a fifteen second clip. I had to mask my eyes and lips onto my Pop Yourself figure using Adobe Premiere Pro, something I had never done before. The process was exhausting and incredibly time intensive. There were nights where I sat in my studio rewatching seasons of South Park just to keep myself going while working frame by frame. More than once, quitting felt easier than pushing through. But I knew that taking shortcuts would only cheat the final result. That video ended up becoming one of the most important pieces of content for the release, driving the giveaway for the Metallic Joker Chase and connecting directly with the Funko community.

There have also been plenty of weeks where nothing hit. Weeks where I didn’t post at all. Weeks where I did post and nothing gained traction. No real reaction, no momentum, just silence. In those moments, discipline wasn’t about motivation. It was about telling myself, “Alright, next song,” or “OK, Next idea,” and continuing forward without letting frustration dictate direction.

Discipline, to me, is essential. It’s something I lacked growing up, and finding it later in life has been a complete shift. A blessing in disguise. Discipline isn’t flashy, and it doesn’t announce itself. It’s the quiet decision to keep going when it would be easier to stop.

Discipline is who I am when no one is watching.

The discipline no one sees is what builds everything people eventually notice. It’s the early mornings, the quiet nights, and the long gaps between wins. And when something finally breaks through, it’s never luck. It’s the accumulation of days that looked ordinary, unnoticed, and uncelebrated.

This journal exists to document the parts of the journey that don’t always get seen. This part of the journey doesn’t make headlines, but it’s the part that makes everything else possible.