“Today, together, let’s ignore the assholes that ask us to justify our existence, even if (especially if) those assholes live inside of us. Let’s give ourselves the opportunity to just be, to experience ourselves as creative people, and make art for the love of making art. At the end of the day, more than money, fame, award or online lists, that’s what it’s all about I think.” – Brian Gresko
When I was little, I thought success meant being liked. Being good, obedient, having all the right answers, smiling when inside you wanted to scream.
Success is a little like midnight sex.
Hot, unexpected, a little naughty – and still yours.
When you live it, you feel everything inside you loosen up, rules and expectations dissolve, and you move only according to your own desires.
Not for applause, not for an audience, but for the thrill of being yourself, uncensored.
Life doesn’t hand out medals, points, or certificates.
It simply passes by.
Success is the moment you stop comparing yourself to others and start writing your own story.
And if you want, you can do it with irony, with a smile, with a cheeky “Yes, that’s exactly how I want it!” to the world.
And if you expect applause, congratulations – you’ll hear it as the echo of your own courage, and sometimes as a shiver across your skin when you allow yourself to truly be yourself.
For other people, success is a house, a family, security, the “right” degrees, and Instagram posts shouting: “Look at me, my life is perfect.”
For me, success is freedom. Freedom to create, to write, to live by your own rules. To leave a mark that no one will like – and that, precisely, is the sweet spot.
To laugh at mediocrity, at meaningless advice, and at those who tell you how to live your life while suffocating in their own boredom.
The truth is, success doesn’t come as a gift, it can’t be bought, it doesn’t wait.
It’s grabbed with fists, laughter, sometimes with a nervous breakdown, and always with the desire to feel life in your own flesh.
It may be selfish, but if you’re not ready to be selfish about your own dreams and surrender to them with the same passion we surrender to desire, you’ll end up in someone else’s story – and there, applause is only the echo of someone else’s “success,” the smell of mediocrity is free, and boredom is lethal.