This is my journal entry from July 30, 2025, part of my daily autobiography Author in St. Petersburg — my real, unedited days, published in order.
Today marks the beginning of a new book made entirely of diary entries. I haven’t chosen a title yet, and I’m not sure how the format will evolve, but this feels like the right direction. After more than a decade as a full-time YouTuber and content creator, I’ve stepped into a new role as a local author, speaker, and coach. The constant chase for clicks, views, and validation wore me out. That chapter is closed. Now I’m focused on building something real and lasting, free from algorithms and instant feedback loops.
What excites me most about this project is its simplicity. Each day, I’ll spend about five minutes recording what’s happening in my life. I’ll transcribe the audio and polish it with ChatGPT, creating a written record that feels clean but still personal. This isn’t about selling a brand or performing. It’s about documenting my life consistently and honestly.
I’ve tried similar experiments before on YouTube through vlogs, but the format never worked for me. I’d end up obsessing over views and questioning whether the effort was worth it if the numbers didn’t come in. That mindset turned the process into a trap. With this book, I’m intentionally leaving all that behind. The title, structure, and presentation will come later. For now, the priority is showing up each day and writing something that matters.
Not every book I want to write will work in diary form. For example, I’ve drafted over 40,000 words for a book on technology addiction, but it mostly reads like personal reflection. A focused topic requires structure and intention—clear sections, outlines, and deliberate execution. Diaries, on the other hand, give me freedom to explore without boundaries. Both styles matter, but they can’t be mixed. My speaking voice carries years of YouTube, gaming, and crypto energy—raw, spontaneous, sometimes unpolished. On the page it can feel rough, but it’s mine, and my job is to refine it into something that reads as well as it speaks.
This project feels meaningful because it removes the rush for instant gratification. I’m not chasing metrics; I’m creating something durable. Each entry will be 500–700 words to keep it focused and digestible. That discipline forces me to ask: what’s the most important thing I need to say today?
Today, it’s about starting. I’m choosing to begin without knowing exactly how this will turn out. That uncertainty doesn’t scare me—it energizes me. I’ve let go of the 40,000 words I already wrote. That was practice. This time, I’m ready. For years, I wished I had kept a consistent diary. Now I finally am.
This afternoon, I played tennis with a friend from 10:30 to 12:30. The heat was brutal, and we took more breaks than usual. My friend eventually took his shirt off just to cool down. On the next court, two younger guys played with relentless intensity. They moved like high-level athletes, maybe even professionals. At first, I felt a flash of comparison—they made us look slow. But then the thought shifted into pride. I was still there, playing in the same heat, holding my own. That in itself was something to celebrate.
After tennis, I came home exhausted. I’d already done a power yoga flow that morning, so my body had been through plenty. I showered, ate a massive lunch—an entire bowl of potatoes and a handful of energy bites—and then had sex with my ex-wife before collapsing into a deep three-hour nap. Later, the kids returned from Nana Camp, and I went to my Alcoholics Anonymous meeting that evening. It was another full day—physically demanding, emotionally grounding, and creatively fulfilling. The journey has officially begun.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.