This Is My Alaram
That piece of paper taped to my cabinet? It’s a call to action, a declaration of war. I put it there to remind me of the date every single fucking day… It’s also my personal alarm clock. Every morning, as I’m making my eggs, taking my Animal Pak, prepping my meals—it goes off, like a hammer to my brain. My alarm doesn’t have a snooze. It never lets up. It cuts me no slack. Some days, I see it and it gets me jacked. Yeah, I’m gonna do this. This is my destiny. Other days I think, ‘What the fuck am I doing? I look like shit.’ Either way, I can’t escape it. Every time I see that piece of paper, it stares back at me, calls me out, challenges me. So I just keep grinding forward. Listen, this is how things work. If you want to get something done, you gotta set a goal. Then, write it down—put it in a place you can’t hide from. Every day, look at it and ask yourself, am I farther along than I was yesterday? Am I moving forward? Cuz if you’re not, why did you even set a goal to begin with? My goal is up there, circled in permanent red ink. Every day it greets me, my own personal fucking alarm clock. If I listen closely, I swear I can hear it ticking. Tick… Tick… Tick… Ticking down from 126. Can’t you hear it? It’s fucking thunderous. And it’s winding its way down to 0…
