How to fall in love with the process?

One night, I wrote it in a hotel, in a country I don't even remember, in a notebook no one has ever read: "I've never gotten one wrong. But I've never persisted. I've always waited for an easy result only to quit like an idiot."

Because what matters is that we either succeed or we die inside our goals.

There's a precise moment when everything changes. Not when you understand what's wrong. You already know that. It changes when you decide that the old you isn't coming with you anymore. When you leave him there, with his habits, his fears, his excuses. And you start walking alone toward someone who doesn't exist yet but who you already feel inside. From that moment the game becomes something else. It becomes beautiful. Hard, but beautiful. Because the struggle finally has meaning. And like everything worth having, it takes practice

I didn't tell you that every time you have to make an important decision, your brain will always point you toward the wrong path. The one that seems easier. The one that postpones the problem until tomorrow. The familiar one, that welcomes you, that cradles you and tells you "come on, come here, after all you've already been comfortable on the couch, you know it feels good. You want to go down a road you don't know? Are you crazy, it's dangerous!"

And every time you choose that path, you'll wake up six months later in the same place as before. With the same hunger. With the same distance from what you want to become.