What If I Only Wrote from My Head?

No Google. No notes. Just thoughts on the loose.

Photo by Milad Fakurian on Unsplash

After my previous story about how I no longer want to be an online entrepreneur, I suddenly got curious today about what my profile would look like if it only contained stories that came straight from my mind.

If I want to express myself exactly as I am, in the purest way possible, I should actually write that way. I think my profile would look very different, and the reader would have a completely different experience reading my stories.

Only then would one truly get a glimpse into my mind.

Not that I’m saying that’s so special, of course. Or, well, actually it is. I don’t encounter many stories like that myself, if I’m honest. I think people who write memoirs might come closest, or real bloggers. People who simply talk about their lives. I believe they write straight from their minds.

What I see a lot, not just here but also on Substack, for example, is that people proclaim that you’ll be a successful writer if you solve someone’s problems. That’s called “providing value.” I’ve believed this myself. To a certain extent, it’s true, but that doesn’t mean that stories that don’t solve problems don’t provide value.

To use memoir writers again as an example, their stories are sometimes very interesting. And sometimes funny, sad, or even shocking as well. But I don’t feel like they solve any of my problems or anything. Still, I find such articles valuable, provided they touch me in some way.

And besides, I really can’t stand the thought of constantly solving other people’s problems. I don’t feel this has anything to do with self-expression either. I don’t see the art of writing in this, really. Especially not with all these frameworks and templates these days. They’re all just psychological tricks to keep someone reading or to pique their curiosity, but the downside is that more and more people are using these things.

And the “ignorant-but-want-to-be-successful” type of writers are sometimes even willing to pay substantial sums to learn these kinds of things from the “big boys,” so to speak. The Dan Koe’s and Tim Denning’s are names that come to mind. And there’s nothing wrong with those guys, you know. They made it. In my opinion, they are rich and successful individuals who thrive in business, writing, and content creation. They’ve found a way to turn their knowledge into a revenue model. To provide a service that’s considered valuable enough for people to pay for.

But, and I say this without any facts or data, I think most people who want to achieve something similar to theirs won’t succeed. Like, ever. It’s not that simple. If it were that simple, what they offer wouldn’t be as valuable. Anyone would be able to do it. So there’s high demand, but there’s also an even higher graveyard of failed attempts.

It’s valuable because many people want it, but can’t do it. It’s difficult. The attempts to achieve it anyway, the hope, the vision of being a digital nomad with a passive income, or at least being able to earn money from a resort in Bali with just your laptop, is what keeps the business model alive.

It’s also really bizarre actually to see myself writing this now, because not so long ago, I was completely convinced of this and I used it a lot myself. I even wrote not that long ago about APAG:

I combined it with humor, found it more digestible that way. And in the meantime, I believed I was serving value, solving a problem. But if I’m honest, I seriously have no clue how I would make a business model out of that. Information like this you can get out of ChatGPT if you want, or find somewhere else online. It’s also not that unique, as it’s written in a way I have learned from others, using the framework I try to teach. Perhaps the humor is the factor that makes it a bit more unique, as that’s something personal. But it’s not unique like writing the way I wrote this story and my previous one.

This is written straight from my mind. No framework, no research, no Google, no help from AI when it comes to structuring, thinking of headlines, or whatever it may be. I wrote this story from scratch, from the point of an empty page. No intention to get rich from it. This is me, expressing myself. My thoughts. Original. Authentic.

And I love it.

This feels like freedom, and that’s what currently matters to me. This feels better than writing with a money-driven intention, constantly chasing those metrics and earnings. It was driving me crazy. It stole the joy I experience from the craft itself. And now I’m regaining it, simply thanks to following my intuition. My ego wanted more: longer stories, more output, more earnings.

But at what cost? It didn’t care about that. I understand the concept of keeping a vision in mind, and that sometimes we need to go through unpleasant times in order to achieve what we want to achieve. But there’s a line, and I crossed that line way too many times. Went too far over it, up until the point I even thought of quitting it all.

That would be a shame, wouldn’t it? It’s not worth it. Even when you hustle your ass off and make that money, when you feel like shit, what’s the point? I can’t enjoy anything when I feel drained, so also not any money I make with whatever hustle it may be. Life’s too short.

Time to enjoy some more.

Because in the end, the work we enjoy is the only work worth doing.

Talk soon,
— Wes