The Red Journal

Colin Farrell | September 30th, 2025

It’s 8:48 p.m. The room is quiet except for the hum of my computer. My chest feels heavy, my head is pounding, and my eyes sting from staring at the same problems all day.

I have made zero dollars in the last 3 weeks. Today, I fought through issue after issue trying to build client solutions, and nothing seemed to work. Every time I thought I was close, the same problems came back. By the end of the day I wanted to break down and cry at my desk.

This is what it means to chase a dream as a one-man show. There’s no backup. No safety net. No one to take the weight off my shoulders. It’s just me, sitting here in the dark, alone with my thoughts. Alone with the voice that whispers, “Maybe this is too much. Maybe you can’t do it.” The silence makes that voice louder than it should be.

And yet, even in that silence, something in me refuses to let go.

In a few days I’ll pack up and move to Frederick, Maryland with my girlfriend Samantha. That move means everything. It means I am officially on my own financially. No more safety net, no more excuses. Just me, my belief in Red Dog, and the people who have trusted me enough to become my first clients.

I want to make a difference. I swear on my life this is not about being trendy or trying to look like an entrepreneur. This is about purpose. This is about building something that matters. I believe with everything in me that I was made for this.

But believing doesn’t make it easy. The hardest battle is not with the code, or the tools, or the business problems. The hardest battle is with my own mind. The days when doubt creeps in, when my body aches from 13-hour shifts, when my motivation feels thin and fragile.

Still, I know why I’m here.

I picture the people I want to help. Small business owners who work themselves into the ground just to keep things moving. People who love their families but miss the moments that matter because the weight of the business never lets up. I think about a dad who has to tell his son, “I can’t make your game tonight.” Or a mom who’s stuck finishing paperwork while her daughter scores the winning goal. Those are the moments you don’t get back. And that’s what crushes me.

That is why I fight through days like this. Not to build flashy tech. Not to chase some startup fantasy. But to build tools that give those parents their evenings back. Tools that let them close the laptop, get in the car, and make it to the field on time. Tools that let them be present for the things that matter most.

That vision keeps me going. It keeps me here, even on nights when the loneliness and the weight threaten to break me.

If you’re out there feeling the same way, know this—you are not alone. And we cannot give up. Not now. Not ever.

This is what it feels like to chase something bigger than yourself. It hurts. It’s lonely. It makes you question everything. But it also builds something inside you that nothing else can.

I’m aiming for the moon. And even if I miss, I’ll land among the stars.