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I'd like to introduce you to a player in the game of your life.


"Hey, I'm so tired, I should just go to sleep. this presentation is good as it is."

"Ugh, I'm not good enough anyway, better stop now before I humiliate myself entirely."

"A painter \ writer \ musician \ actor? This is no way to make money."

When you listen to this voice you are relieved.

*Sigh* you don't have to think about your goal anymore.

There's Netflix, there's cleaning the house, there's eating, just to forget about your dreams.

Resistance has beaten me up all my life, and I couldn't even realize it.

It used lies, manipulations, fear, alcohol, weed, video games.

Just to keep me secure in the safe zone, where nothing could go wrong.

I felt horrible after every single time it won.

I wanted to write for years, and never had the courage to lift up the computer and start. Once, in the middle of the night, I won my resistance and wrote.

It wasn't perfect at all. So many flows. But I've done it.

It was very dystopian so I didn't want to continue with the story, haha, but the important thing was that...I've done it, and it was decent!

I was so glad, showed it to everyone, and was washed in the heavenly spring of praise.

It took me a year from then to start writing The Dance of Life and Death, and what kept me from doing so was resistance, and resistance alone.

I was terrified. Of letting myself down, of spending my time for nothing, of seeing the world's reaction.

I started writing after I was introduced to resistance.

The War of Art by Steven Pressfield tells the story of resistance in just two hours. What it is and how to overcome it.

It's a daily war, but the best war you could fight.

It changed my life.

To start crashing resistance, check it out:

*In the picture - me, victorious.

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"Omfg," she told me after attentiveness of 10 minutes, listening to every word I said with unreal intensity, "Listen, I'm a script editor and you have something different than anything I've ever encountered. This is actually new. If you want, I have some connections. You can sell your idea, and we'll create a movie out of it."

Reality crashed on me.

We were both VERY drunk at the party.

I was excited about my story, of course, I want to tell all the world about my book, and I can speak about it for hours.

It's something real for me. It's my baby.

I never thought I actually need to hold things back. People can steal.

It was a strange feeling, mostly because I think people are good at their core.

Nevertheless, I cursed myself for the rest of the night.

She was nice, and she really got me, I told her my fears and she promised me not to do anything with it.

How strong can a promise be?

*In the picture - Good from the core

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Water was pouring on my face as I was pondering the events of the day. Water poured outside as well. One was called a shower, the other rain, how bizarre.

Just two hours before, I was in the ocean helping a guy I just met fight the riptide to get back to shore.

Two thoughts clashed in my head like two waves joining one another, creating a massive new one. BOOM. A new inspiration for my book got flesh and bones in my mind.

I like how my brain process new ideas. My thoughts surprise me at times with the adventures they make. At that moment, my new inspiration wasn't short of orgasmic for me.

"Oh shit," I thought to myself, " I don't have my phone here, rain is pouring, and I didn't even finish my shower yet. Just hang on there, little thought."

When I arrived at my room and wrote it down, I sighed. A stone left my heart. The inspiration was born.

*In the picture - a sea of thoughts

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