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/blog/how-facebook-uses-artificial-intelligence-and-what-it-means-for-marketers">Facebook</a>, Hogan answered with a mean emoji which made me cry. Not gonna lie. I mean that’s life. It’s beautiful; crying is part of life, and that’s the way it is.</li><li>On <a href="https://www.thetravel.com/most-beautiful-beaches-instaworthy/">Insta</a>, Rocky sent me a selfie from his garbage. That didn’t make any sense to me. Maybe someone can explain?</li></ul>I don’t want to look like I’m complaining about silly stuff when others can’t take their private jets to Hawaii, but it hurt.<h1 id="7df6">On days like that, I’m obsessing over a single idea: Am I operating with maximum energy?</h1>(I stole this line from my friend Tim)Right now, my answer is maybe.And that’s ok. We don’t always have to operat

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e at maximum energy, you know? We can write stuff and publish without editing. That’s ok; nobody will read it.Writing helps to see things in transparence.The same goes with running. It’s art.The sound of your feet thumping on the pavement is an echo of your fingers hitting the keys. When you’re in the flow, nothing can stop you. Except for the bananas falling from the ceiling. (If you have this problem too, please reach me in the comments, I would like to start a support group.)<h1 id="5222">But I found a new way</h1>(I also stole this line from my friend Tim)When the darkness hits. When the chaos rings the bell. When I start three sentences in the same manner.I STOP.I literally shout and write STOP.</article></body>

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Hey everyone,

It’s been a tough day … again.

On Twitter, Jessica didn’t like one of my tweets which made me very sad.
On Facebook, Hogan answered with a mean emoji which made me cry. Not gonna lie. I mean that’s life. It’s beautiful; crying is part of life, and that’s the way it is.
On Insta, Rocky sent me a selfie from his garbage. That didn’t make any sense to me. Maybe someone can explain?

I don’t want to look like I’m complaining about silly stuff when others can’t take their private jets to Hawaii, but it hurt.

On days like that, I’m obsessing over a single idea: Am I operating with maximum energy?

(I stole this line from my friend Tim)

Right now, my answer is maybe.

And that’s ok. We don’t always have to operate at maximum energy, you know? We can write stuff and publish without editing. That’s ok; nobody will read it.

Writing helps to see things in transparence.

The same goes with running. It’s art.

The sound of your feet thumping on the pavement is an echo of your fingers hitting the keys. When you’re in the flow, nothing can stop you. Except for the bananas falling from the ceiling. (If you have this problem too, please reach me in the comments, I would like to start a support group.)

But I found a new way

(I also stole this line from my friend Tim)

When the darkness hits. When the chaos rings the bell. When I start three sentences in the same manner.

I STOP.

I literally shout and write STOP.