at so young, how am I so ahead?

the highest tier of man isn’t a butterfly.

rather he glides like one.

the best man you could be is respectful but competitive.

arrogant but humble.

superior but empathetic.

honestly, I’m living a dream…

mind of an entrepreneur.

body of an athlete.

soul of an artist.

hm : game of don juan

I’m no one to tell you how to be a man, I’m 18 after all… lots of things to learn.

but there’s really not much people nowadays to tell you how to live like a man. you know?

a lot of guys including myself didn’t have a father figure growing up.

so what do you do naturally as a kid?

you grow up off the internet.

you either turn into a little femboy wearing tote bags, or you turn “extreme alpha”

it’s either heavy on one side… think tate.

or it’s heavy on the other… think the modern narrative.

you’ll find that there’s no inbetween.

and there’s a key reason for that…

polarisation sells.

we’re tribal creatures.

it’s always us vs them.

and that’s natural, you know?

you’re either on the far end of the spectrum on each side. you pick a rolemodel and you stick to their philosophy, not yours.

and it’s extremely healthy to have a bit of competition.

but you know what i’ve realised?

I don’t see anyone nowadays living to their creed.

I’ve had to pave my way through this life. there was no real “guide”

I’ve been the man of the house since single digit age, you know?

and that just leads you to a loss of direction.

you don’t even know how to speak to girls. you was never taught.

you don’t even know how to lift a weight. you was never taught.

you simply don’t know. there’s no rolemodel.

and this is either a blessing or a curse.

for me, it’s a huge blessing.

but for most guys that grew up in a female household?

honestly, they turn into females themselves. this is metaphorical and literal.

the guys with a loss of direction simply get swooped along with the current.

and the current nowadays? it’s not good. loads of pussyboys out there. there’s no question about it.

today at around 3am. I jumped out of a grey mercedes outside the gym. told boss “enjoy your night brother”

scanned in. empty gym. just one roid monster growling at the weights.

was thinking to go up to him and jokingly say “yo, what stack you running?”

but nah. I’ll let him do his thing.

walked past him. nod my head to myself. “respect”

straight into the heavy bag room. just 2 bags and silence.

I walk in and I’m actually excited to see the bag. like it’s my wife waiting at home for me with a smile and a fresh ribeye. medium rare on a wooden plate.

don’t even want to wait. hit a jab jab hook bare knuckle, the metal chains on the bag rattle. this sound is heaven to my ears.

I broke my airpods. got new ones coming tomorrow. so this gym sesh was silent. I don’t mind at all.

take the gloves out the bag. warm up my wrists. pop a blue raz pablo. slide the gloves on.

without thinking, I go on the bag and hit a jab jab, hook.

then I just paused for a second.

I have no airpods in.

and this hook sounded lethal.

I swear that the connection just reverberated across the 2 gym floors.

I never hear this, I’ve always got some airpods in.

but fuck me. that shit was lethal.

lemme try again on the left hook…

this time I’m more aware.

and i’m noticing my footwork and head movement, this shit is automatic.

I’m bopping and weaving without even thinking about it. call me iron mike tyson.

jab, cross to the body.

hook to the head.

again, that shit sounded lethal.

i’ve never experienced joy like that since my first ever online payout. (give or take… about 3 years ago)

no joke, this feeling was better than a girl whispering in my ear “take my pants off, i’m too hot” 3 hours after meeting her.

in the moment, I compared it to that.

and I just stopped for a second. and I thought to myself “fuck me, i’m REALLY that guy”

take my phone out to record. but I always check my email on autopilot.

stripe notification. $x,xxx payout has been sent to your bank.

this is the norm, but this shit hit me this time. how’ve I managed that?

my mind grounded me. i’ve been obsessed with money since 3 years ago. obviously it’s this way.

take the hoodie off. black wife beater.

hop out the heavy bag room.

mirrors everywhere.

I’m looking at the v taper, the freshly groomed beard, the capped delts, the vein connecting from my shoulder to bicep, the shiny chain around my neck.

it all just hits you at once…

how did I end up here?

It feels like a dream, me 3 years ago could’ve never imagined this.

the answer just jumped out at me…

I’m the man of the house.

i remember my mum trying to get me a £350 bike on finance when I was maybe 13…

we had to declare household income to see if we’re eligible.

she slides it over to £15,000 a year.

I tell her “just put £16,000 per year, they won’t know”

and I look back at that in such mixed emotion. I don’t even know how to feel.

disappointed? angry? grateful?

I mean, i can choose what emotions to feel, so I’ll always pick grateful, need to tap into that to manifest the future.

but still? £15,000 a year?

is that what caused all of this sleep depravation, anxiety and depression for the past 20 years?

I told her soon I’ll be buying a beamer, she can drive it when I buy it because i need to get my license done.

she says “when?”

casually I said “couple months”

i see the emotions in her face, she’s quite astounded.

and I’m sat there laughing at it, it’s quite funny seeing this play out.

but still. it don’t feel real.

and the only reason I’m here is because it was hard to put food on the table for her.

ain’t no other reason I’m here.

simply because I became man of the house so young.

but what really tipped me over the edge?

you know, there was a point where everything was just shit.

the point where I said “fuck everything, I’m gonna get rich”

2:06am, deep in my thoughts, just turnt 16 not long ago.

that’s it, it’s as simple as that.

3 years later, we’re chilling.

but I still wish I could’ve done it earlier, that’ll never go away.

so what does it take to get rich young?

a bit of financial issues, no father, and no hoes. the holy trifecta.

(don’t be fooled in the notes, I had one hoe and she got dropped, that’s why I wrote it)

that’s it.

stay busy.

d4”2busy”

and by the way…

i’ve dumped all of my brain and the things i’ve learnt from these past 3 years in the silent network.

everything, instant access for you.

click here to see if you’d fit in

and I wish you luck…