It's a big week for me.

I almost skipped today's post—I was buried in work.

It was late, and I was already in bed, ready for sleep. Then came that familiar surge. One voice urged rest: "Sleep...it's Sunday night." But another whispered louder: "What if someone else is awake, building, pushing ahead?"

Lately, I've been locked in my cave, coding, working out, shedding pounds—reinventing myself.

Yesterday, a friend told me I inspired him...rare words for me to hear. It made me realize something simple yet profound: what inspires people isn't just what you build, it's that you keep going. Hit after hit, dead tired, far past zero, running on negative—it loops back around and nullifies itself. The punches become pointless if they never stop you.

This moment reminded me of stories about LeBron James and Christopher Nolan. On the court or on set, they're calm, controlled, flawless. But beneath that composed exterior lie countless unseen hours—relentless tinkering, repeated failures, shooting in the dark.

We're living in the lava era. The ground beneath our feet changes every three months. Few see the endless hours of preparation required to navigate this shifting terrain.

Because very soon, it'll be 2004 again.

I'd wager we're at the year 2000 right now. The AI bubble has already burst—but unlike the brutal collapse of 1999, the sheer scale of today's market softened the blow. What's truly unprecedented, though, is the acceleration of the timeline: advancements in AI aren't just frequent—they're exponential. Moore's Law has received an upgrade.

Traditional startup wisdom is quickly becoming irrelevant. With every new AI breakthrough, the rules rewrite themselves.

Imagine the dawn of the internet—but now, the floor is lava, rearranging every few months. New companies surge, adapt, or vanish overnight.

Yet amidst this chaos, I'm spotting patterns, keeping pace. It feels like playing basketball at an impossible speed. I've always tinkered across disciplines, experimented with various frameworks, technologies, and tactics. Those who know me have witnessed this obsessive exploration firsthand. Now, I'm harnessing every tool in my arsenal—almost every technology Apple offers, every known startup methodology, every tactical insight I've acquired.

If tonight were a one-time occurrence, you could call it foolish. But it isn't. This relentless pull—this late-night surge—it happens again and again. Answering it repeatedly transcends mere ambition. It becomes mythical. Obsessive. Possibly even psychopathic.