Starting with A Day magazine, that icon of indie culture and inspiration for every dek naew, Wongtanong Chainarongsingha now has an empire of successful publications—A Day, Hamburger and Knock Knock—under the umbrella of his Day Poets Company.

When I began A Day, the only thing on my mind was that this was my creation and I didn’t want to com­promise. It should be pure, full of pure ideas. It could have been my first and last magazine.

My first goal was to pour my interests into the magazine. It had to be a book that I liked from the first page to the last.

My second goal was to give two things to readers: inspiration and impressions.

I tip my hat to those who make complicated things easy. That’s what I want my magazines to be, not something like a castle in the sky.

I’m making a documentary film about Petchaburi. I rent a second home there, where the vibe is simple and baan baan. Peace and minimalism make me feel happy. The film should be done next year, I hope.

I never really understood what dek naew is. But from what I gather, indie is shortened from indepen­dence; it’s freedom. And I started A Day independently, without selling out to a big corporation. I want it to be an alternative read.

I became a symbol of a young dude who chases his dreams and finally makes it, an underdog who is victorious in the real world. I kind of like it, this image. It doesn’t matter all that much, though, but it’s better than an image of a blood-sucking capitalist.

I like to think, to question, to be curious. But the questions I often ask myself, but am never able to answer, are those about life and love.

I believe in love but not in marriage. Maybe it’s because I am from a broken family. And strangely, out of all the people around me who are married, none of them seem happy with it.

It’s difficult to be with a woman and tell her “I won’t marry you.” From my experience, there is no woman who can take this. She’ll feel insecure knowing that one day I might just run away.

People misunderstand me as a workaholic. I just like working, but sometimes I’m lazy. These days I do very little at the office. My main task is to walk around, talk to my colleagues and give comments. My editors can take care of things just fine.

Lately, I’ve lost my ambition. I used to have great goals in life. When I read interviews I gave, I see that I was so pompous, so arrogant.

I fucked up with A Day Weekly, and that woke me up. For many years, whatever I touched became a hit. When A Day Weekly crashed, though, I felt so bad I cried for many nights.

I used to think that everyone liked me. With A Day, it seemed like they all loved me.

Once I failed, I found out that success is fleeting.

Failure pulled me back down to earth. It has greater value than success and makes me a more humble and less ambitious person.

My philosophy is “less is more.” When I was aiming high, I left that philosophy behind. But, for now, mini­malism is the thing in my life.