This is my journal entry from August 23, 2025, part of my daily autobiography Author in St. Petersburg — my real, unedited days, published in order.
I went absolutely nuts today working on I Was Famous on the Internet. I spent hours on the computer running transcripts through ChatGPT, cleaning them up, and shaping them into book-ready chapters. Since most of the stories I want to include have already been told in my videos, the obvious strategy is to use those transcripts, strip out all the livestream filler—shoutouts, thank-yous, and offhand chatter—and then insert the rewritten versions directly into the manuscript. From there, I can read through the whole draft, trim unnecessary tangents and repetition, and tighten everything into a cohesive narrative. My plan is to build the manuscript up to more than 100,000 words and then cut it down to around 50,000. First I’ll get everything in, then go back and shape it. That feels like the right way to make sure I don’t leave anything important out.
What excites me is that I don’t have to retell every story from scratch. For example, I already recorded a two-hour video about how I blew up on Facebook Gaming, a half-hour one about Udemy, and another two-hour one explaining why I was deleting everything online—only to put things back up a few weeks later. These are raw, honest accounts, and ChatGPT does a surprisingly good job turning them into text that needs very little editing to work in a book.
I realized today that what would really make the book powerful is starting with my childhood and early years—moving quickly through that setup—and then letting the bulk of the story unfold in diary-style entries. Rather than retelling events with hindsight, I can use the words I actually said at the time. It makes the book more of a “show, don’t tell” experience. For instance, instead of writing, “I played God’s Unchained obsessively in October 2022 and quit in December,” readers get to see the edited transcript of me in October passionately explaining why I was all in, then two months later declaring why it sucked. That kind of whiplash is both embarrassing and real, and it’s what will make the story come alive.
I feel grateful to have this process. The transcripts come out of Adobe Premiere Pro as rough, automated captions, and ChatGPT reshapes them into text I barely need to touch before dropping them into the manuscript. I have the time now, before massage school begins, to get the bulk of this work done. I’d love to have both these diaries and I Was Famous on the Internet published—or at least sent off to print—before classes start. That way I’ll already have books in hand to give away, building a foundation for people who might later come to me for massage or coaching. Ideally, I’ll finish a few more books during school so that when I graduate and begin offering my services full-time, I’ll already have marketing materials in place.
I’m also thinking about collaboration. A massage therapist friend came to mind, and I’d like to send her a voice memo outlining a plan for growing her business. If we can exchange massage sessions and I can coach her on building her client base, it could help both of us succeed. I see the potential for a mutually supportive relationship where we each grow stronger through collaboration.
This morning I went to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting at 8:30. It was held outside, the weather was beautiful, and about twenty people showed up. We all had time to share since most people spoke briefly—except for me, of course. I felt so good today that I went on at length. Sometimes it’s hard for others to relate when I share about feeling great, but I think it’s worth it. I told them about the letter I sent to my in-laws, which got some laughs. I imagine many of them thought it was reckless or inappropriate, maybe even guaranteed to backfire. So far, nothing has changed in my relationships, but at least I’ve made the effort to let my family know me better. I also haven’t spent any more time on the phone arguing with my brother about his wedding since sending him a letter saying I wouldn’t attend. That alone has brought me peace.
My ex-wife’s sister kindly watched our son this morning, and her parents took my daughter, which was a huge help. Everything at home feels stable and supported, except for the Toyota RAV4. A loud noise started coming from the right front tire today. When I described it to the mechanic at a tire shop, he suspected it might be a wheel bearing. With the car just passing 100,000 miles, that wouldn’t be surprising but could easily run into thousands of dollars. My ex-wife managed to drive it nearly an hour with the noise, and thankfully it was safe. I’m grateful the 2006 Corolla is fully repaired and can serve as our main car for now. I try to trust that no matter what comes up, we’ll have the money we need. Sometimes I feel like we’re made of money, with more always flowing in. I don’t need to know exactly how or when; I just love knowing it’s there when we need it. At 7:30 a.m. on Monday, I’ll be back at the Toyota dealer with my ex-wife’s credit card and off in a rental by 11 if it isn’t done by then.
At 10 a.m. I went to yoga and confronted the superficial side of my own mind. The studio was nearly full, but there was still open space on both sides of me until a significantly overweight woman rolled out her mat next to mine. If she hadn’t been overweight, I might have found her pretty, but my attention kept drifting to a thinner, conventionally attractive woman on the far side. For the first two-thirds of class, I caught myself wishing the heavier woman wasn’t blocking my view. I had to ask myself why I cared so much. Isn’t it more impressive that she shows up and does the work, even managing wheel pose when I didn’t? By the end of class, I consciously sent her loving energy, lying in shavasana thinking, I love you and I’m glad you’re here. That’s growth. Years ago, my diary would have been full of contempt, not a trace of compassion. Back then, I would have resented her for taking up space I thought belonged to someone “prettier.” At least now I can see the bias in my mind and try to soften it with love.
I sometimes laugh at the way yoga instructors assume everyone comes to class “to go within.” That isn’t why I’m there. I can turn inward anytime at home or in the car. I go to class partly to stretch, but also because I enjoy the people-watching, the energy of the room, the variety of bodies moving together. If I only wanted inward reflection, I’d practice alone. It’s fascinating how different our reasons for being in the same place can be. In AA, some people come to avoid jail time, others are looking for a date, some don’t even believe they’re alcoholics, and a few think they’ll learn how to drink more safely. Meanwhile, I come to feel connected. That was the theme I shared today: the opposite of addiction is connection. Addiction for me was a lonely, isolated existence where I kept people at a distance. Now I live in connection, constantly surrounded by others or doing work like this that I hope will reach them. That connection is what keeps me alive and thriving.
The kids joined in my creative workflow today, dictating stories into my phone. My son recorded a road trip story, which I ran through ChatGPT and read back to him after printing out a polished four-page draft. My daughter dictated her own ten-minute story, and I produced a neat printout for her too. They proudly handed these stories to family members, which helps us relive our shared experiences and strengthens our bonds. It feels like a breakthrough—technology used not for distraction, but as a tool to create something lasting and tangible.
Even as I revel in the excitement of this process, I wonder if it has an addictive edge. Is it the technology itself, or just the thrill of pouring my energy into meaningful work? Either way, I’m grateful. More than anything, I value the enthusiasm I feel for life. The way I sustain it is by speaking gratitude out loud. If I focused on anxiety or fear, I’d sap my own strength. By choosing instead to say, I’m grateful for this energy and excited to use it, I keep the momentum going. That gratitude turns raw energy into joy, and joy into creation.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.