50. Halfway through life.
Maybe I have 50 years left.
Maybe I have 5.
None of us know. We move with our backs to our death, and no one knows the date of the exit.
But I stand here like this.
Happy.
Not because I'm anything special.
But because I chose to rise again.
When I fell headfirst into the darkness 20 years ago.
I bought into the story too, at first.
That it was all the women's fault.
That I was to be pitied.
That I was a victim.
Even though I was the idiot.
Who committed every mistake it's presumably possible to make in that short a time.
I tried that path.
It leads nowhere.
Only to anger. Mistrust. Meaninglessness.
And it only changed when I turned toward myself.
Slaughtered my own ego.
Cut away everything superfluous.
Patterns. Thoughts. Excuses.
Took the life of the identity I thought I had to be.
Killed it with both hands.
And started over.
From the inside.
Most of the new men's movements and councils?
They sit and whine.
Rail against women.
Against society.
Against culture.
Against structures.
And sure - much is wrong.
But. They piss their power away.
And call it "working on themselves".
It's bullshit.
A waste of your time.
You want life? Power?
Then rise.
Embrace your darkness.
Use it. Integrate it.
Be the man you know you could be if you got your fucking act together.
Good women don't flee from men who have done the work.
They long for them.
The world longs for them!
But it starts with you.
Not with society. Not with feminism.
You.
Forget the noise of culture.
Find the timeless.
Dig it up in yourself.
And go.
Use me as a mirror.
Not as a model.
Fuck me.
It's about you.
So rise.
While you're still here.
And do what you were born to do.
❤️🔥🪽
...
PS. And yes - I have deliberately chosen a picture of my body.
Because the masculine body has been shamed.
Marginalized.
Made suspect.
We have taught men that the body is "stupid". That only the brain, the feelings, the intentions matter.
But it isn't true.
The body is a temple.
An instrument.
A tool your soul expresses itself through.
The stronger, healthier and sharper it is - the more freely energy flows.
To the heart. To the head. Toward God.
But it provokes.
Because it can be seen.
Like a sports car. Or an irresistible woman at your side.
It reveals that something has succeeded.
That someone has paid the price.
And the price isn't money.
It's time. Discipline. Endurance. Repetition. Moderation. Sacrifice.
None of it can be bought. None can be faked.
It can only be built. Over years. Over decades.
So no - it isn't about showing off.
It's about showing that it's possible.
That it can be done.
And that it's worth doing.
If you want something real - then you must build something real.
And if you're a man - and you're in doubt about where to start, to rise up.
Then start with your body.
The heart and head follow naturally and create space for the connection upward, if you exert yourself a bit.
---
Well, the post has been shared quite a bit. And several complain that I look old in the face. 😁😆 Well, maybe. Anyways, I went to bed at 2:30 and got up at 8 and took the picture shortly after - so naturally I'm a bit drawn. I can't look like a botox king 24/7. If one wants to verify my appearance - if it means anything for the content of the post - one can browse through my pictures a bit. Feel welcome, 🤷🤓🫶
