Chapter 2: The Fire Inside

Ideas are cheap. Everyone has them.

Sit in any café long enough, and you’ll hear people talking about their million-dollar plans, their next big thing, the empire they’re going to build—someday.

But nobody gives a damn about an idea.

What they care about—the only thing that ever matters—is the man who is willing to go to war for it.

That’s where the difference is made. Not in the moment of inspiration, but in the fight, the obsession, the sleepless nights where you rip yourself apart and rebuild from scratch.

And I was ready for war.

That day—when the words “this is just how life is” hit me like a bullet—I didn’t just have an idea. I had a mission.

To prove something. Not to the world, not to anyone else—to myself.

I didn’t care if it took me ten years. I didn’t care if I had to sacrifice comfort, sleep, or every last drop of my energy. I wasn’t going to let my life be another story of potential wasted.

Because people talk about ambition like it’s a cute little dream. Like it’s something you fit between your weekends and your free time. But real ambition? That’s hunger. That’s rage. That’s a fire inside you that never lets you sleep because the thought of dying without trying is more terrifying than any risk you could ever take.

I wasn’t chasing success.

I was hunting it.

And nothing—nothing—was going to stop me.