I’ve been building products for most of my life, but recently I’ve been thinking a lot about where I came from, how far I’ve gone, and what it means to “start again.” Not in a dramatic way — just the natural reflection that comes when you’ve gone through enough failures, enough rebuilds, and enough life.
If I look back, my story has always been a series of restarts.
I started my career as a developer.
In 2008, I jumped into the startup world for the first time.
I built things. I failed at things. I learned.
Then I tried again.
Over the years, I co-founded LadiPage and BambuUP, both of which shaped how I think about product, teams, and execution. None of it was easy, but every phase pushed me forward.
Today, I’m a solo founder — building TicketX.vn, an event-ticketing platform with 64,000+ users and more than 500 organizers. It’s a product I’ve coded with my team, operated, and grown from scratch. And like everything else I’ve built, it came from a mix of curiosity, stubbornness, and the belief that there’s always a better way to do things.
But TicketX is only one part of what I’m doing now.
Alongside the Web2 world, I’ve been building mini apps on blockchain — small, focused tools that solve real problems in the Web3 ecosystem. Utilities, experiments, ideas that don’t fit the traditional product mold but make sense in a decentralized environment. They’re lightweight, fast to iterate, and fun to build.
For me, Web3 isn’t a “pivot.” It’s just another layer of the same curiosity that pushed me into startups years ago.
And even with all of that, I still feel like I’m restarting.
Being a solo founder is a constant cycle of building → breaking → fixing → shipping → rethinking → starting again. Every technical decision, every market shift, every new idea forces you to reset a little and move forward again.
Life is always moving.
Sometimes in your favor, sometimes not.
But it keeps moving.
Every time it shifts, you start again — with new knowledge, new scars, and hopefully more clarity.
Writing here is another restart.
A quieter one.
I’ve spent years building, often without documenting anything. But now I want to write — not to preach, not to motivate anyone — just to understand my own journey better.
I’m not sure where this new phase leads.
Maybe it opens new doors.
Maybe it connects me with people who think the same way.
Or maybe it simply helps me think more clearly.
Whatever happens, I’m here for the journey.
Life is made of the things you create, the problems you solve, the people you meet, and the times you fall and get back up again.
This is one more restart.
One more branch in the path.
And I’m okay with that.