before we begin, i want you to do something.

I want you to wait for the next thought. and become consciously aware of it the moment it arrives.

quite literally, try and catch your next thought.

not after. do it now.

3

2

1

go

…

what? you can’t do it?

the reason is simple: the waiting itself turns into a thought. when your mind was is so absorbed in listening for a thought it cannot even produce one.

but something strange happened while you were trying.

there were 2 of you: one thinking, and the other waiting.

that phenomenon, right there, is metacognition.

contrary to what you may think, it is not some spiritual gimmick or self-help buzzword.

it is what EVERYTHING stems from. literally.

people like to say ‘your thoughts create your reality’.

bullshit.

it’s not your thoughts that create your reality but your relationship with them.

you can stare at vision boards 24/7 and repeat 1000 affirmations/day but if the person watching them doesn’t believe a word of it, they won’t do anything except make you feel stupid.

people search for problems everywhere except in themselves. it’s either this technique or that routine, this guru or that supplement.

but in truth, the greatest enemy is inside their own minds. observing. judging. issuing verdicts.

and it never stops. it walked into every room you have ever walked into, and it will be there tonight when you close your eyes.

you can’t OUTRUN your own shadow. but with enough practice, you can integrate it and what once was the greatest enemy, becomes the greatest ally.

this topic has been on my list for quite some time, but i always felt like I needed more knowledge. more practice.

my lab is buried in materials. open books face down on every surface, printouts, three pens that don’t work.

black coffee went cold while I was rereading the same paragraph for the fourth time.

I’ve been studying all this for YEARS. and it’s not an exaggeration.

the white board behind me is one long line of names and arrows, running from ancient greece to modern laboratories.

crazy how it all connects into one.

let’s get into it.

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THE BIRTH OF META-COGNITION

“I am better off than he is, for he knows nothing, and thinks that he knows; I neither know nor think that I know.”

— plato, apology 21d

but let’s start all of it from the beginning.

5th century B.C. ancient greece.

in a world of oracles and omens, of gods who were believed to decide everything: from the harvest and the war to the sex of your child, a simple inscription was carved above the entrance to the temple of apollo at delphi.

not know the gods.

not know the science or the philosophy.

know THYSELF.

being able to understand oneself on a deeper level: to know one’s strengths and weaknesses. to know what moves you, what drives you, and what pushes you off course. praised as the highest virtue of the ancient world.

why does this matter?

2,400 years later, at stanford university, a psychologist named john flavell was investigating why young children are so bad at remembering things.

a few pictures laid out on a table, children of four different ages, with one instruction: study these for as long as you want. tell me when you are sure you can recall every one.

the older ones studied, said they were ready, and recalled the whole set perfectly.

the younger ones said they were ready.

and then failed.

the answer was simple: the child, contrary to the adult, has almost no ability to check his own mind. his memory works fine. the part that is supposed to look at the memory and report back does not.

young children have almost entirely no self-awareness. no observer. and that’s why they can’t control their own emotional states. why a four year old cannot tell you he is tired. he can only be tired, at everyone, at full volume.

this ability grows over time, but nobody ever sits you down and trains it.

and well… just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean yours is working. it means it works sometimes.

think about it. how many times were you ‘reading’ a book and caught yourself not registering a single word from the past 3 pages you’ve ‘read’?

or drove home on a route you take every day and arrived with no memory of the drive.

your hands did it. your eyes did it. and yet… there was nobody in the seat.

this might not seem as too big of a trouble until you realize what it actually comes down to.

what if i told you that most of your fears, insecurities and eventually all your actions are quite literally dependent on this one faculty. on whether it is running at all, and on what it says when it does.

let me show you the entire mechanism. and the exact place where it breaks.

II. THE MACHINERY

“Men are disturbed not by things, but by the views which they take of things.”

— epictetus, enchiridion 5

I. META-COGNITION OFF

as we already established, just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean your meta-cognition is fully working.

for an untrained mind, it’s still mostly dormant.

it fires at tasks that force it awake: planning, categorizing, learning something you have no template for, a problem hard enough that you have to watch yourself solve it. but on a daily basis it’s mostly off.

you don’t analyze your thoughts. you don’t analyze your emotions.

you have them. and then you are them.

here’s how the process looks in this state.

you have a thought. for example: ‘i am so bad at this.’

that thought then passes through a credibility check (subconscious). meaning: how fast it arrived; how familiar it felt; how many times you have thought it before; how your body reacted to it.

each one of those returns the same answer.

if it appeared automatically, you’ve thought it thousands of times before, and your chest tightened on cue, it gets stamped as true. and it enters the depths of your subconscious mind. (becomes a belief).

that belief is later fired at the moment of action and manifests itself proportionally through hesitation. through the tone of your voice. as well as through everything you’ve never tried.

this is how we operate 99% of the time. entirely at the mercy of processes happening beneath our conscious reasoning.

meta-cognition is the only faculty that gives you any control over these processes.

II. META-COGNITION ON

here’s the second way.

you have a thought as before. that thought instantly passes through the same subconscious credibility check (instant, automatic, and we don’t really have any control over this part).

but then, before it can be stamped and filed, it goes through a second one.

the conscious credibility check. meta-cognition.

why did I think that way?

is this thought serving me, or is it only controlling me?

then, depending on how much conscious effort and honesty you brought to it, the sum of the subconscious verdict and the conscious one reaches your decision and determines the course of action.

there’s a principle in quantum physics called wave-particle duality. basically it states that light and matter behave as a wave when no one is watching them, and as a particle the moment someone is. the same thing, two entirely different natures, depending whether it was observed.

your thoughts work in a similar way. the mere act of awareness ‘changes’ what the thought becomes.

and it can be for good as well as for bad.

because when you add awareness, you’re no longer entirely at the mercy of your largely ‘random’ subconscious. you add that conscious choice to it. engage or disengage. ratify it, or leave it as it is.

more so, that way you are also actively shaping the contents of your subconscious by choices and repetition.

what is now a fixed set of automatic responses and patterns was also once installed, one verdict at a time, by a younger version of you who was not watching.

it can be overwritten by the exact same mechanism. but now of conscious choosing.

that would be enough of theory.

now i’m going to show you how to do it.

THE MECHANICS OF META-COGNITION: HOW A THOUGHT BECOMES A BELIEF

“Wait for me a little, O impression; allow me to see who you are, and what you are an impression of; allow me to put you to the test.”

— epictetus, discourses 2.18

I: CATCH

you have no control over a thought you haven’t noticed. the first step of meta-cognition is to simply become aware of the thoughts passing through your head.

forcing yourself to stay awake 24/7 is not a way though. this would require too much conscious effort and would die on the vine after an hour.

what im going to propose is something entirely different.

set fixed checkpoints throughout the day dedicated just for that.

just like a lucid dreamer going through reality checks by pressing a finger into his palm to see whether it passes through, you set your own reality checks, but in waking life.

for example 3 times a day.

those can be the moment you wake up. when you drive home from work. and when you go to sleep.

you can also run it backwards over the past.

this is called memory work: conscious analysis of the hours behind you and the thoughts that were passing through your mind while you lived them.

just go through the day in reverse and answer: where was I; what was running; and the only question that matters at this stage: did I notice any of it at the time?

the answer will be no. for weeks it will be no. that is not the failure. that is the measurement.

the other thing: the body is always a more reliable alarm than the mind.

the chest tightening, the jaw, the reach for the phone before you decided to reach. you can feel those.

so add a fourth checkpoint to the three. a floating one. it does not fire at a time, it fires at a sensation, and it fires all day.

every time the body moves before you told it to, that is the doorbell. something already made a decision and did not consult you. stop there and find out what it was.

II: JUDGE

once you became aware of this thought, you will want to use the exact cognition that comes from being aware: conscious intellect.

when you’re not aware of a thought, you’re much like in a dream: entirely at the mercy of the current.

you get pulled wherever your mind takes you. from anxiety to anger. from euphoria to despair.

the conscious gives all that untamed force a direction.

you stop and ask yourself the question: ‘where does this thought come from?’

is it from YOU really, or from the past?

is it built on anything at all, or only on the fact that you have thought about it a thousand times before and it now arrives so fast that you don’t even consider it?

and the most important: ‘does it really serve me?’

what is not there to serve you is only out there to control you.

so judge for yourself. and once you make a verdict you’ll know what to do next.

III: RECALIBRATE

now we reach the key part.

you can do all that meditation, journaling, shadow work, however you want to call it, but if in the end you do nothing with it, what’s the point?

the whole point of practicing the meta-cognition is not only to monitor, but more so to control those thoughts.

this comes down to simple choices like:

engage or disengage with a thought?

ratify it as true, or leave it standing there unsigned?

feed it with attention, or ignore it?

and then simply do it again tomorrow.

and yes, the final product will always be a sum of conscious and unconscious processes. but the ONLY way to get your hand anywhere near the wheel is by flipping this conscious switch of intention and repetition.

practice. practice. practice.

in the beginning it may seem senseless. you may think that what you’re doing is idiotic, but in reality you are shaping a diamond.

just like an alchemist transforming base metal into gold, you’re transforming your own base thoughts into fuel.

fear into courage.

anger into calculation.

anxiety into confidence.

just like davinci sketched out the ideal man, you can sketch out the ideal self. and then spend the rest of your life drawing it.

-cipher.

this piece probably contains more than enough theory, but if you’re looking for something to structure the knowledge and actually put it to work, I can help you with that also.

based on the real-life stories of some of the greatest minds of history, I created the most practical manifestation playbook there is.

I entered the depths of the minds of giants like napoleon, muhammad ali and henry ford, and distilled from them the pure essence that actually moved the needle in the real world, not on paper.

5 conditions of your mind. 5 plays you can simply mimic in your own game.

the real game starts here. learn more → mentalgameplaybook.com

ps. this wall all still surface level. upgrade to paid to access the deepest material i produce.

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it’s not a secret that some of the greatest minds of history were Freemasons.

George Washington. Winston Churchill. Amadeus Mozart.

even Napoleon had some connections with them.

at its finest days, the order of freemasons was likely the most powerful organization in the world.

they were controlling the flow of information, shaping world economics and politics from behind closed doors.

but what made them so powerful?

you see… it’s not just about the money and connections they had. Masons were the product of a system. more specifically: of a very specific way of thinking.

deriving from the greatest esoteric sources: ancient scriptures, medieval textbooks, alchemical manuals, the most advanced geometry of their age. and passed this knowledge to their members, ranking them based on their level of initiation.

the higher your rank was, the more of it you were handed.

the highest ranked, 33rd degree, had the ability to SEE things invisible to the normal eye. to read the world on two levels at once; to give form to the formless.

not so long ago those were strictly confidential information talked about only behind closed doors.

but now… it’s accessible to everyone who dares to listen.

black coffee with raw honey, next to an utterly destroyed, time-worn copy of the ‘kybalion’.

coffee has gone cold while I was browsing through lodge minutes from 1773.

my notebook is full of sketches and handwriting even I can’t read now.

I’ve been studying this for years. only now I see how it all connects into ONE.

ladies and gentlemen. pens and notebooks out.

let’s get into the mind of a Freemason.

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1. THERE ARE NO POLARITIES. ONLY DIFFERENT DEGREES.

everything is dual; everything has poles; everything has its pair of opposites; like and unlike are the same; opposites are identical in nature, but different in degree; extremes meet.

— the kybalion, principle of polarity

most people look at life as a constant battle between good and bad.

fear against courage. lust against discipline. pride against humility.

every ‘good’ force in the universe is considered to have its ‘bad’ equivalent and we aspire to get more of one and less of the other. always.

in truth, all polarities are made of the same substance. the only thing that differentiates them is the rate of vibration, creating the illusion of duality in the material world.

you can’t see it with the bare eye, but every pair on that list is one substance, simply vibrating at different rates.

the easiest way to conceptualize it is to think of steam and ice.

beneath the temperature, it’s one identical substance. what made them appear as opposites was never in them. it’s an illusion created by the material world.

initiated mason has the ability to see ABOVE the duality, and perceive all opposites as what they truly are: ONE THING.

there’s no good. there’s no bad.

there’s one substance, simply expressing itself through different forms.

symbol: the two pillars.

every masonic lodge has two of them standing at the entrance. jachin on the right. boaz on the left. he will establish, and in him is strength.

the initiate does not pick one. he walks BETWEEN them. that’s the only way in.

2. NOTHING CAN BE DESTROYED. IT CAN ONLY BE MOVED.

mind (as well as metals and elements) may be transmuted, from state to state; degree to degree; condition to condition; pole to pole; vibration to vibration. true hermetic transmutation is a mental art.

— the kybalion

moving ignorantly through this material world, we love to say:

i finally beat that addiction. i finally got rid of that anger.

what you really do, always, is merely shift it from one form to the other.

you can’t delete an old pattern. energy is the only thing in the universe that cannot be destroyed. it can be converted. it can be redirected. but it cannot be destroyed.

that’s why people keep coming back to old habits and addictions.

once you cut off the outlet, you don’t remove the force. it’s still there, in the room, looking for another door.

deriving knowledge from medieval alchemy, freemasons were the masters of transmutation.

as you raise your state of consciousness, you gain the ability to choose the form it takes.

you don’t remove fear. you raise its rate and shift it into courage. you don’t get rid of lust. you transmute it into drive.

you were never getting rid of it. you were only ever choosing where it goes.

symbol: alchemist transforming metal into gold.

the alchemist adds nothing and removes nothing from the metal. he applies heat, and holds it, and holds it, until the gold finally comes.

what he started with is what he ends with.

3. ALL DARKNESS IS PROPORTIONAL TO ITS LIGHT.

the Evil is the shadow of the Good, and inseparable from it. so long as there shall be a visible light, there will be a shadow proportional to this Light.

— albert pike, morals and dogma

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it’s another late evening in my lab. time’s running out and I’ve got a whole stack of work to do.

I turn on the computer. light up the candle. put on red LED lights. jazz on low, always accompanying me.

but there’s something else always accompanying me… sitting on my shoulder. whispering straight into my ear.

‘before you start, slack off for a while. you’ve got plenty of time.’

seriously? you’ll need to try harder to move me tonight.

an hour passes. I’ve been so locked in I haven’t even blinked.

‘you’re so tired. go to sleep. you’ll finish tomorrow.’

there’s no tomorrow.

it shuts up again. not for long tho.

‘but why’re you even doing this? nobody’s going to see it anyway.’

nah. these tricks don’t work on me anymore.

there was a time in my life when I’d fold every single time. a single innocent suggestion would be enough for me to drop everything and give in to its claws. slack off ‘only for a while’ as my actual life was falling apart.

it has been studying me since I turned 3. it knows my every weakness. every wound. every unspoken vanity and forbidden desire.

it knows exactly where to strike to make me FEEL something.

and that’s what makes it SO dangerous for the sleeping man. and SO useful for the awake one.

the only thing it does now is give me even more fuel. even more ammo to keep going.

whenever I hear this little whisper I know exactly what I have to do to transmute every drop of it into my work and enter generational flow state.

devil is my bitch. he dances to whatever tune I play.

but I didn’t beat him.

that’s what most men try to do, and that’s why they keep folding. again and again.

today we’re about to change that.

by the end of this article you will know exactly how to deal with this tempting voice in your head and never give in to it again.

let’s get into it.

THE DEVIL: ACCUSING VOICE IN YOUR HEAD

‘the accuser of our brethren, which accused them before our god day and night’ — revelation 12:10

you probably have the preconception of a devil as a demonic being with horns, big teeth, and a pitchfork.

scary, red, ugly monster used to scare off children. but conceptualizing it this way is nothing more than reading the bible exoterically and externalizing the very thing that was meant to be read esoterically.

the bible in itself never explicitly stated that devil is an external being.

from hebrew ha-satan, it simply means ‘the accuser’.

read: the accusing voice in your head that gets in between you and the work. to lead you away from the man you were about to become.

this makes even more sense when you realize that the very word we have for the devil. DIABOLOS. means literally to get IN BETWEEN.

dia. across.

ballein. to throw.

in between you and your work. you and the ones you love. you and the reality you desire.

the easiest way to conceptualize it is to think of an alter ego. an active part of your brain that never switches off. running one layer beneath the conscious reasoning.

it has the access to a huge storehouse of data in the form of your subconscious.

since the moment you turned 3 you’ve been building this storehouse.

it holds everything you buried away. your deepest fears. insecurities. desires. every humiliation you never spoke out loud.

and fires it back at you in the moments you’re least prepared.

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THE MEANS OF THE DEVIL

‘put on the whole armour of god, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.’ — ephesians 6:11

1) APPROACH THROUGH INDIRECTION.

the reason why it works so well is because you almost never see it coming.

it comes disguised as ‘rest’, ‘pleasure’, ‘reward’. but underneath the cloak is the very opposite.

in the bible it never comes as darkness. but the very light.

‘satan himself is transformed into an angel of light’ (2 cor 11:14).

and 1 kings 19:12. god is not in the wind, the earthquake or the fire. but in ‘a still small voice.’

both of them whisper.

it never screams. it whispers. straight into your ear.

‘one more minute’

‘only this one time’

‘you’ve earned this’

2) IT SPEAKS IN YOUR OWN VOICE.

because it has the access to the entire database of your past, it will not use foreign arguments to persuade, but your very own beliefs.

and will twist them around in a way to justify giving in to its claws.

‘didn’t you say health comes first? go to sleep.’

it does not argue against what you believe. it argues FROM it.

3) IT DOES NOT LIE.

it deceives you. but technically it does not.

it will speak truth. though, incomplete truth.

in the book of genesis the serpent promises ‘your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, to know both good and evil’.

the very words of god though, three verses later:

‘behold, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil.’

it was right. tho not fully.

4) IT ATTACKS THE MOTIVE. NOT THE ACT.

in the book of job the accuser never says that job sinned.

he says ‘doth job fear god for nought?’

meaning: he is only good because you paid him well. take it away and watch him fold.

it will never tell you that you did something wrong.

it will tell you you’re a fraud for doing something right.

5) IT ESCALATES AS IT LOSES.

even the devil does not kick a man who’s already down.

actually, maybe it will, but not as hard as the man on top.

the better you do in life, overall, the bigger the offer on the table gets.

that’s why the most wretched are usually the men on top.

epstein files revealed the dark nature of the most influential people on earth.

the reason is simple: when the devil has nothing more to offer you, it will offer you EVERYTHING.

WHERE DEVIL LOSES ITS POWER

‘and he asked him, what is thy name?’ — mark 5:9

in the gospel of mark there’s a story about a man whom an evil spirit had taken over.

he went crazy to the point where nobody can hold him. they had tried chains and he tore them apart. they had tried fetters and he broke them to pieces. night and day out among the graves. screaming. cutting himself with stones.

then jesus lands on that shore, and speaks to it:

‘come out of the man, thou unclean spirit.’

and nothing happens. even jesus could not command it out.

so he does something else. he asks a question.

‘what is thy name?’

‘my name is Legion: for we are many.’

it leaves.

four verses later the man asks to leave with jesus, but is refused. he is told to go home, back to the same region, and tell them what happened to him.

he walks out into the decapolis and tells ten cities. ‘and all men did marvel.’

same fire, same intensity, only given direction.

here’s the lesson: every emotion in the universe carries some form of energy.

those with the highest energetical charge are usually perceived as negative: anger, fear, lust. and that’s exactly why they are the most valuable.

there’s no such thing as ‘bad emotion’. only unacknowledged emotion pointed badly.

the goal was never to fight or suppress it. but acknowledge and direct it.

once you can name it and aim it, the devil is the one that starts to OBEY you.

PLAYBOOK: MAKE THE DEVIL OBEY YOU

‘with all your heart means with your two inclinations. with your good inclination and your evil inclination.’ — mishnah berakhot 9:5

so let’s state it plainly: how do you conquer lust once and for all and take control over that voice in your head?

to my mind there’s only one way.

1) ACKNOWLEDGE

what makes it so persuading in the first place is that you haven’t yet properly conceptualized it.

devil is not an external being with horns. it’s not a higher force of the universe either.

it’s simply an unintegrated part of your subconscious that demands to be heard.

that’s why every other trick in the book works on you.

in order to rise above it, you have to see it for what it really is: a part of your being that was never given a job.

it’s not YOU. it’s YOURS.

the moment you stop identifying with the voice, it loses its power over you.

2) NAME

once you stop identifying with it, you have to name it specifically as it arises.

‘now it’s lust’.

‘now it’s fear’.

‘now it’s envy’.

it’s no longer release from the pressure, but a simple lust.

it’s no longer being realistic, but fear.

it’s no longer rest, but sloth.

this simple shift in perspective removes the clouds from your judgement and strips the disguise off the thing wearing it.

3) TRANSMUTE

naming it is one thing, the transmutation is the other.

these drives do not disappear as you name them. they’re still there. waiting for an outlet.

the only question left is what you’re going to do with it.

as you fully feel that drive, that electric charge passing through your chest, instead of relapsing, you channel all of it into your work.

just like the alchemist transforming base metal into gold, you’re transforming your repressed desire into output.

that’s how the elite athletes perform. how the military breaks a man and rebuilds him. how great creators turn a wound into a body of work.

they don’t kill the charge. they redirect it into the task in front of them.

whenever the devil speaks to you, name it. feel all of it. and channel every drop into your work.

that’s how you conquer lust.

that’s how you make the devil obey you.

— Cipher.

guess what the devil hates the most? clarity.

most men drift through life without clear purpose, and that’s why they’re so easily whispered off course.

that’s the reason why I built the Mental Game Playbook.

through obsessive study of the greatest minds of the past, I distilled their mental game into pure essence and created a complete framework you can simply follow.

5 cognitions of your mind. 5 plays to run on.

learn more → mentalgameplaybook.com

the whisper says stop reading. prove it wrong:

when I was a kid I used to be a very devoted christian. and I MEAN it.

when I was 12 years old, I was attending a religious class. one of my non-believing friends asked me:

‘why do you even waste time on this? you know… this whole god-thing isn’t real. my parents told me that.’

as soon as I heard that shit, I hit him straight in the face.

I would argue. I would preach. I would fight just to silence these non-believers.

as years passed by, my religious devotion went out. but what remained intact is my devotion to this book.

I studied the bible. as well as I studied the bhagavad gita & qur’an. not in a religious way. but metaphysical.

there’s no higher knowledge than that contained in these holy books carefully crafted for millennia. not centuries. MILLENNIA.

but contrary to what most people think, the bible, in its original understanding, is not a book about suffering, redemption or sin.

it’s, above all else, a metaphysical book. a book containing the truth about the higher orders of the universe.

astronomy.

physiology.

psychology.

law.

medicine.

agriculture.

the architecture of time itself.

the bible can be read in 2 ways: literally (exoterically) and symbolically (esoterically).

and while 99% read it in the first way, the second is the actual, intended, ORIGINAL meaning.

you see… back then when these texts were being formed, society was divided into 2 parts: the scribes and the multitude.

those who could read. and those who were read TO.

in first-century judea the literate were somewhere between 3 and 10 percent of the population. everybody else received the text through a mouth that already knew what it meant.

that is not a conspiracy theory. that is a literacy rate.

truths that would be hidden from the many.

while the few would be able to deCIPHER it and pass it down to their sons, grandsons etc.

and while thousands of years passed, the literacy went up and the veil went down into the language itself. the distinction is still the same.

you can read every word and still be on the outside of it.

it’s another early morning as I’m writing this.

the rays of the rising sun are falling across an utterly time-worn, nearly destroyed copy of the holy bible.

I sip black coffee while rereading underlined verses for the hundredth time already.

how many of them have you read a hundred times and never once seen?

time to cast some light.

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1. GENESIS 1:3

“and God said, Let there be light: and there was light.”

you surely know this story.

the seven days of creation. god imagines the world and speaks his ideas into form. ‘let there be light.’ ‘let there be a firmament.’ ‘let there be lights in the firmament.’ and by the sixth day, he says this:

‘let us make man in our image, after our likeness.’

now, in the most basic understanding of this verse, it is a display of power. a miracle performed once, a very long time ago, by somebody who is not you.

people only know the preconception they were handed.

because it is said that god made man in his image, we have this idea of god as an old man with a long beard sitting in the clouds and judging humanity from above.

plot twist: at this point of the text, the ONLY thing we know about god is what he has been doing by then: imagining and speaking things into form.

no face. no beard. no throne. six days in, and the whole description of god is one verb, repeated.

in the purely esoteric understanding, what makes you like god is not your appearance, but his only cognition: IMAGINATION.

that’s what makes mankind superior to any other species. unlike any other creature, you were given the ability to create something out of nothing. to give form to the formless.

just like god did on the first page of the book. and that’s what makes you truly made in his image.

this is the first law. every other one rests on it.

onto the next one.

2. EPHESIANS 5:13

“all things are made manifest by the light, for whatever manifests is light.”

this is a natural extension of the previous one.

in the esoteric understanding, light = imagination.

that’s why we call it a lightbulb moment. you suddenly become enlightened. lit up from the inside. because your imagination came up with the solution to a particular problem.

this verse points at the most basic and most fundamental principle of creation: before anything can exist PHYSICALLY, it has to exist MENTALLY.

you cannot build what you have not first seen.

the chair you sit on. the roof over your head. the phone in your hand. it all first existed as a mental concept (the light) in the mind of the creator.

similarly, the reality you so desire can only be brought into form once you have a clear mental concept of it.

simple as that.

the entire sphere of manifestation is so overflowing with chakras, crystals, moon water and 528hz playlists, while a two-thousand-year-old letter said it plainly in one line:

all manifestation is made by the light. it’s only your own imagination that can bring new reality into form.

don’t be trapped into believing some higher force can do it for you. nothing outside of you can do it for you.

3. ECCLESIASTES 3:15

“that which hath been is now; and that which is to be hath already been.”

to a normal reader this means simply: history repeats itself.

the same way the sun rose today it will rise tomorrow. every day is followed by night and every night is followed by day.

all of which is inevitably true, but there’s a deeper side to it.

‘that which is to be hath already been’. the mental construct created in your imagination is already real. it has already HAPPENED.

let me explain:

there’s a concept in quantum physics called ‘the quantum field’. beyond the reach of the senses, there is an infinite space of probability where all possibilities already exist as unmaterialized potentials.

the version of you that got everything.

the version of you that lost everything.

the version of you that never even tried.

every possible version your life can take which you can imagine already exists somewhere in the quantum field.

and this is not just philosophy. it is a real, measurable scientific phenomenon.

fire a single particle at a wall with two slits in it. one particle. it has no partner to interfere with. it should go through one slit or the other and leave a single mark.

it doesn’t. it goes through both. it interferes with itself, and it builds up a pattern that only exists if it took every available path at once.

then you put a detector at the slits to catch it in the act. and the moment you look, the pattern collapses. it goes through one.

in 1999 a team in vienna ran it with buckyballs. not electrons. molecules of sixty carbon atoms, big enough to be considered objects. they did the same thing.

what does it mean? every path exists until one is selected.

and what science can now prove empirically, the ancients knew intuitively thousands of years ago.

biblical ‘hath already been’, in hebrew even blunter: ‘asher lihyot kevar hayah’. kevar hayah, meaning ALREADY WAS.

you don’t create new outcomes. you merely tune into the already existing one.

4. ISAIAH 45:7

“I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil: I the LORD do all these things.”

is it about god being all powerful?

for most readers, yes.

Read more

think about it: have you ever felt the weight of your tongue sitting in your mouth?

of course not. you are only feeling this weird sensation now as you read these words because your attention naturally locked onto that.

studies show that what we can consciously perceive is less than 0.0004% of the electromagnetic spectrum. what you see is only the tiny fraction of reality your attention is currently focused on.

the RAS (reticular activating system) part of your brain constantly filters down reality and shows you only the fraction that is aligned with your dominant thoughts.

two people can witness exactly the same event and walk away with entirely different experiences.

you will never ‘see’ the reality. you will only see the inside of your head.

better make it worth seeing.

HOLD ON, WHO WROTE THAT?

who tf is CIPHER?

a bohemian creator with romantic spirit who travels the world chasing the truth of the universe, admiring storms roll in over foreign coastlines while drinking espresso and smoking cigarettes?

a deeply curious mind connecting the dots between fields of study nobody ever thought belonged together, in the fashion of leonardo da vinci?

an avid reader of hermetic texts and declassified files, reading the bible for fun for the 5th time and yet in no way religious?

a self-taught metaphysician disappearing down the rabbit holes at 3am to understand how reality ACTUALLY works?

a megalomaniac, so drunk on his own potential he genuinely believes he is destined to discover something whole centuries tried to disguise?

what about all of the above. everything mixed into one person?

MY MISSION.

the entire sphere of manifestation is utterly broken, and I genuinely mean it.

ladies with crystal bowls, living in basements and predicting the future through tarot cards will tell you to do the same. to walk barefoot on wet grass at sunrise, charge your water under a full moon, and act ‘enlightened’ while your actual life is falling apart.

let me save you the embarrassment and several years of your time. none of it will do anything except make you feel stupid.

thanks to all these corny rituals, the whole concept of manifestation became something people laugh at. which is ironic, because your mind is your most powerful tool.

whenever you look at great athletes, leaders and founders, they all tell you the same: it is all a mind game. it always was.

the ancients have been pointing at this for millennia.

the soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts.
— marcus aurelius

the kingdom of God is within you.
— luke 17:21

as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.
— proverbs 23:7

and nothing changed since…

i’ve always been a deeply spiritual person.

i’ve read over 100 books on ‘manifestation’. thousands of podcasts and articles. 10+ years spent on understanding the machinery, so you don’t have to.

but let me be clear with you. if you are the kind of religious person who cannot entertain another worldview, or one of these crystal-cult members, please leave. let’s spare both of us the nerves.

but if you’re ready to seek the kingdom, come with me and let me show you how.

CIPHER DATASETS: INITIATION TO THE LODGE

what if the devil you read about in scripture was never an external being with horns and a pitchfork, but the accusing voice inside your own head? the hebrew ha-satan does not mean a monster. it means the accuser.

what if the story of jesus going into the judaean desert and starving for 40 days was never about resisting a creature that showed up to tempt him, but about what a man meets when he removes every distraction and is finally left alone with himself?

what if every angel and every demon in that book was never a physical being at all, but a faculty of your own mind, named and dramatised so it could be taught to people who could not read?

the rabbit hole goes deep. by the time you surface, you will see everything that has been hidden from you. everything that was buried, and everyone who profited from the burial.

but you have to take your time. it’s not a sprint, but more like a marathon. those who rush the process end up staring at crystal balls geniuenly believing they’re witches.

it’s a journey into the depths of your soul, and it will not be comfortable. you slowly begin to understand the machinery. and then you begin to understand that you have been running it blind your whole life.

with that being said. I can’t walk it for you.

I can only show you the door. YOU’re the one who has to walk through it.

WHERE TO START

the publication runs on two levels. free and paid.

the free ones give you the foundation. everything else I write assumes you already have it.

some non-negotiables you have to read to get going:

about the most misunderstood concept in manifestation, and the piece that will forever shift your paradigm from crystals to mechanism.

my most viral piece. hundreds of people wrote to tell me it helped them win the war against fear and take back their courage.

how to make the most important decision in your life and rid yourself of the herd-instinct once and for all.

PREMIUM DATASETS

behind the closed doors, things get serious. we dissect these mechanism down to the smallest details. step by step protocols that actually moves the needle in this machinery.

guides:

step by step protocols that give you exact steps to run, not just something to agree with.

esoteric rabbit holes:

explorations that fundamentally change how you see reality:
hermetic manuscripts, declassified CIA files, hidden pattern in religious scriptures. the exact knowledge that should not be public.

‘the mind’ series:

psychological autopsies of history’s greatest minds, and exactly what you can extract from each of them.

and many more. you can check the whole archive here:
→ premium datasets

it costs less than a coffe per week and can geniuenly shift your knowledge and perception of the universe

Subscribe now

MENTAL GAME PLAYBOOK:

probably the fastest way to get going on this journey.

through obsessive study of the men who actually did it, I created the most practical guide you can find.

based on the real-life stories of some of the greatest minds in history (napoleon, henry ford, ali and more), I’ve formulated 5 plays and broken them down into patterns you can simply mimic.

learn more → mentalgameplaybook.com

MAKE A CHOICE.

now you stand on the crossroads.

stay the same, or become someone your current self would not recognise.

live EXOTERICALLY or ESOTERICALLY.

as the bible says: ‘do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.’
— romans 12:2

so make a choice:

1. scroll past and forget everything you’ve read in the next few hours.

2. or step into the lodge and begin the renewal.

Subscribe now

it’s time to declare the war against the life you were assembled into. the stakes are high: your desired reality.

the choice is yours.

cipher.

ps. if you read it this far, you are already not most people. one thing before you go: drag this email into your primary tab. if you skip it, the next one lands somewhere you will never look.

new york. the hotel room has been unpaid for weeks.

the most famous inventor of the previous century is 62 years old. broke. without a penny to his name, not being homeless only thanks to the patience of the desk downstairs.

an electrical magazine comes to him with help. money, in exchange for his memoirs.

he accepts, and begins to write down everything that was happening inside his mind throughout his lifetime.

“in my boyhood I suffered from a peculiar affliction due to the appearance of images, often accompanied by strong flashes of light, which marred the sight of real objects.”

a schoolboy in a village in the austrian empire reads a description of niagara falls and sees in his imagination a wheel turning under the water.

he tells his uncle he will go to america and build it.

thirty years later he stands at niagara and watches it turn.

“it is absolutely immaterial to me whether I run my turbine in thought or test it in my shop.”

every other inventor builds a thousand models and breaks nine hundred of them. countless trial-and-error until it works.

his method is different. he first assembles the machine behind his eyes. rotates it. experiments on it. runs it there until it wears, and only then begins to sit on drawings.

“I am an automaton endowed with power of movement, which merely responds to external stimuli beating upon my sense organs.”

he comes up with groundbreaking inventions faster than the offices can file them. motors. lighting. transmission. a boat on a tank of water that turns and stops with nobody aboard.

everyone refuses the obvious explanation. they shout telepathy. they shout there is a trained monkey hidden in the hull. the crowd announces him a magician.

“I saw a cloud carrying angelic figures of marvelous beauty.”

he sleeps two hours a night and even then the machine does not stop.

one night he watches a cloud pass with figures inside it, and one of them is his mother, looking at him.

he wakes to the news that she died in the night.

“the feeling is constantly growing on me that I had been the first to hear the greeting of one planet to another.”

by the end he cannot bear to be touched. he hears a watch ticking through a wall. a fly landing on a table hits like a hammer.

alone in the dark he describes a device a man will one day carry in his pocket that will show him a face on the other side of the world.

and nobody in the room can tell where the genius stops and the illness starts.

at 86 years old he dies. alone. the bills still unpaid.

within days the united states government confiscates everything he left behind, so that what was inside it never reaches the public.

what you have just begun reading is not a legend nor a myth.

it is a well-documented autopsy of one of the most extraordinary minds that ever lived.

a man who lit the chicago world’s fair, put a wheel under niagara falls, and built the exact current that is running through the walls around you.

a man who slept two hours a night. who could not bear to look at a pearl. who counted his steps on the way home and would not touch a plate until he had calculated the cubic contents of what was on it. who demanded eighteen clean napkins at dinner and used every one of them.

a man who completely transformed the world’s relationship with power, and still died owing money to the hotel he lived in.

we’re about to descend into the darkest corners of his psyche and try to answer:

was he a genius, or a mere crazy scientist who lost contact with reality.

a man so far ahead of his times that the instruments to measure him had not been built yet, or a man who had simply stopped living in the same reality as everyone else.

and ultimately: whether he really did discover what he claimed to discover at the end of his life.

we’re about to find out.

it’s a late night as I’m writing this. the windows of my lab open onto pitch darkness, while the inside glows red from the LEDs.

another black coffee gone cold while I was absorbed in a magazine serial from 1919, declassified FBI files, and the notebooks of a man who believed he found the secrets of creation.

the board behind me is covered in pinned dates and quotes, red string running between them. and for the first time tonight the whole thing connects into one.

let’s get into it.

this piece is part of THE MIND series running on the paid archive, where we take the greatest minds that ever lived apart and trace everything they built on the outside back to what was running on the inside.

we’ve already dissected giants like napoleon, rockefeller or alexander the great (check out the whole archive HERE)

this time we put tesla under the lens.

we’ll go through:

DATASET_1: THE INNER EYE. the affliction that nearly destroyed him as a child, turned into the instrument that produced the greatest inventions of the century.

DATASET_2: THE MENTAL WORKSHOP. how he used his mind as the laboratory, and never needed a prototype again.

DATASET_3: THE AUTOMATON. the man who automated himself, because he did not believe he had a will to begin with.

DATASET_4: THE OPEN CHANNEL. how he kept the creative genius going even when he stopped steering it.

this is the only thing on tesla you will ever have to read. period.

costs less than one coffee a week, and can genuinely change the way you see the world and use your own imagination.

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DATASET_1: THE INNER EYE

“I witnessed the tragic scene and although 56 years have elapsed since, my visual impression of it has lost none of its force.” — nikola tesla, my inventions, 1919

when it comes to great painters, musicians and inventors, we like to assume they arrived with something the rest of us were not handed. some magic gift. some supernatural ability.

but tesla did not have a gift. at least not from the beginning.

Read more

11pm. im sitted out in the cafe on the crowded mainstreet of palermo.

half unbottomed silk shirt. hair slick back. shining watch on the wrist. feeling godlike.

black matte shades enable me to see clearer in darkness. every now and then i lift my gaze from the macbook and scan my environment with nothing but contempt.

in the table next to me, bunch of obease mfs in their 30s pouring champagne for another year of the pathetic life of one of them.

im sitting through it with noise cancelling airpods on, toxic future enhancing my megalomania.

2 unfiltered cigarillo deep and im ready to spill out generational truth.

next to my laptop lies a timeworn, utterly destroyed ‘illiad’, serving as my inspiration.

the story of achilles. demi-god staying on the brink of the decision that will determine the course of the rest of his life.

his goddess mother told him he was carrying two fates toward the day of his death.

1. live a long, peaceful family life. but be forgotten soon after..

2. or go to the biggest war the world has ever seen, earn a name that outlives every kingdom on earth. but never come home again.

he goes to troy, earns himself eternal glory and dies young as the greatest warrior the world has ever seen.

may sound insane to a normal mind, but i deeply identify with him. i always did.

if we’re going to die anyway, why not strike for immortality while we’re still in our prime and let future generations enjoy the fruits of your labour for centuries to come?

just like achilles. you either have peace or legacy. you can’t have both.

im a deep believer of fate, tho in not a typical understanding of this word.

since the very beginning of the written word, humanity has always put it on the pedestal.

the concept of ‘fatum’. the romans’ word for what the greeks called moira. it has been the main element of every tragedy ever staged. the idea that one has been assigned a role before his birth and simply cannot walk out of it.

3000 years passed and that idea still survived.

look at the main characters we hand to our children.

anakin skywalker. percy jackson. harry potter.

all these stories include the element of a man designed by fate for to change the course of the world.

a superior being. an ubermensch above limitations of a normal being.

i’ve grown up on these stories. imagining myself exactly like them. fully immersing myself in that lovely childhood delusion.

as an adult, i no longer believe in higher forces, but my burning belief in destiny remained intact.

not as something coming from the above. but as a prophecy one writes for himself and then spends his life fulfilling.

everyone has destiny. you. me. your obease neighbour. with the difference that destiny is not coming at the individual, but FROM the individual.

you are the creator of your destiny. you always were.

in fact, everything you did so far has been a stoneblock adding up to it.

every second you spend dwelling on your future is a second spent writing your destiny.

there’s no outside force. no man sitted in the clouds steering you like a puppet.

true enlightenment is coming to the realization that you are fully responsible for your entire existence.

you are the creator of your prophecy. not the object of it.

so now you might be wondering, if destiny is not predetermined… what is it that determines it?

1. your self-concept - who do you actually consider yourself to be. what is your ceiling when nobody is watching.

2. your attention - where do you direct your currency, is it waste or investment.

3. your day to day feelings - what states do you allow to pass through your being.

4. your deeply rooted beliefs - what ‘truths’ about the world do you allow to permeate your subconscious.

5. your conviction - how confident you actually are about your own myth.

each and every of these elements is like an ingredient adding up top your prophecy.

remove one, and the whole thing collapses into delusion.

(i spilled the whole game on all 5 in my playbook. learn more - mentalgameplaybook.com).

in short… no man is chosen by fate for greatness. the chosen one is simply the one who chose himself, and aligned his whole being to resonate with whatever version he settled for himself.

i’ve spent my whole life so far deeply believing that im chosen for greatness and i have no intention of ever changing it.

with that being said, what is your destiny?

it’s always a good day to ask yourself the question.

-cipher ON.

ps. next week i'm coming back with paid posts. heavier than ever.

deep-game datasets on various esoteric topics that will put you ahead in the game of life.

if you’re not yet subscribed, do it asap or get left behind.

see you on the top.

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5:03 am. mount etna. sicily.

recently the famous volcano has been showing the strongest activity in 50 years. for the whole past week it has been spitting out ash and lava with no signs of it ending. airports closed. tourists rushing out in terror from the island. entire towns lining up for ‘evacuation’.

me? i allowed my madness to win once again. etna is one of those beasts that bark a lot but never bite. just like most of our imaginary fears.

packed my hiking stuff.. and headed straight to the erupting beast. even if it swallows me whole. we would die anyway, so what’s the point of running?

below the first station, the sky is almost black from the remains of ash falling from above. the sight is limited like a man walking through his own funeral smoke.

there’s no return now.

im walking upwards. upwards. the ground growls under my boots. the temperature has dropped from 35 degrees in the pale sun to 12 in the freezing wind.

it’s cold. silent. and lonely up there. perfect. only in these times can you be true to yourself.

after 30 minutes im at the top of the mountain. i can see fire spilling from the crater and everything below me is clear now.

i feel godlike. limitless. unstoppable.

in order to rise above it, you have to walk straight into it.

let me show you what I mean.

Subscribe now

THE POSTPONEMENT LOOP

let me be real with you. there is a cage around you. you just can’t see the bars.

the jail is inside your own mind.

modern society keeps you in a state of permanent postponement. with the illusion that it’s just not yet the time to go after your dreams.

with anything you might want to go after, you are always accompanied by the same lie. that you have to be more capable. more ready. more prepared.

you want to start a business? yeah but the money isn’t right yet. it’s better to wait a little longer. you want to finally go on that trip? yeah but not now. anyways, it’s quite dangerous after all. you like that girl and want to go up to her? yeah but she’s with her friends now. better wait until she’s alone.

and this way days go by. weeks. years.

every night you go to sleep with the premise that tomorrow you will wake up and finally go after it, until there comes the day when you do not wake up at all.

and it’s bearable, cause it’s not THAT bad after all. you still have your netflix and shitty wage-slaving job.

so long as there is bread there’s no sense of urgency. no pressure. and that’s exactly what makes the illusion so hard to escape.

in order to break through the illusion you have to first see through it.

LEARN TO SEE THROUGH

what makes it even worse is that we’re living in a society that does everything it can to amplify the illusion for its own gain.

that fitness influencer will tell you to buy his program first. bald dating professor with sexual charges, his scripts. crypto scammer in a rented lambo, his next coin.

while the truth of the matter is, you don’t need more knowledge, but only more courage to try.

there’s no secret to any of it. no technique. no logical explanation that will suddenly enlighten you.

the only way you can reach the ‘competence’ is by throwing yourself in and figuring it out.

there’s no better time to go straight at it than when it’s boiling. when you can feel that sense of adrenaline. that little fear. and the voice whispering ‘what if?’.

don’t run from it. feed on it.

it’s all in your head. only there.

you don’t have to train anything but your ability to withstand difficult emotions as they arise.

spot it. feel it. and transmute.

THE TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN

once you cross that invisible line. that point of no return. everything will suddenly become clear.

you realize that 99% of these limits are self-imposed.

you weren’t out of your league. you weren’t too small.

the only thing you were this whole time is a coward who cannot bear a little discomfort.

that’s it. that’s the whole problem.

the whole secret of it all is to make your inside stronger than your outside.

make your ambition win over your smallness. your will over your procrastination. your courage over your fear.

one decision separates you from the life you desire. remember these words the next time it arises.

cipher ON.

Subscribe now

this is where it all starts, but just reading this will not change anything.

if you are really serious about taking control pf your mind, you need a practical framework to rely on.

out of years of obsessive study and active practice, I created the most practical playbook you can find.

5 faculties of your mind. 5 plays stripped down to the bottom.

based on real-life examples from the greatest minds of history, it will serve as a practical blueprint you can simply mimic.

learn more → mentalgameplaybook.com

8:49 AM. siracusa. sicily.

i opened my eyes in an air-conditioned room that looks like it survived every sicilian war the greeks ever fought against carthage.

i step outside. it must be 35 degrees at least. holy.

i sit on the terrace. big glass of water with lime. a bit of sunbathing. couple pages of the count of monte cristo and back to the crib.

wear something elegant but minimal. hair slicked back and a shining silver watch on the wrist. 5 sprays of creed aventus all over my collar. scent inspired by emperor napoleon. nightmare of the italians.

we good to go.

i have no clear direction for today. no plan. no map. no one waiting.

just lifemaxxing. wandering, exploring new places, meeting new people and marinating myself in the delusional ideas that arise only when I have nowhere to be and nothing to be done.

there’s no better feeling than stacking piles of money from doing what you love and wandering around the globe without a destination.

isolation does not scare me. contrary. it feeds my imagination and creativity.

when you are constantly in the same environment, around the same people in the same circumstances, your inner child gets pushed out of your conscious psyche and you slowly lose the last remnants of your true self.

it’s better to isolate yourself from time to time. develop your own energy.

be the kind of person that radiates that untouchable aura because he simply does not give a single fuck about what anyone thinks of him.

saying the things others are too afraid to say. thinking the things others would consider impossible.

when you dig deep enough, you come to the realisation that nothing is impossible. truly.

impossible is a word only to be found in the dictionary of fools.

so long as you’re trapped within the confines of your own limiting beliefs, you will never rise above them. it’s as simple as that.

you set your own standards. belief=truth.

the secret to becoming isn’t to grind it into yourself by god knows how many repetitions and forcing against the current.

it’s quite the opposite in fact. training yourself to forget everything you thought yourself to be up until this point and remembering who you were before all of it.

returning to the source. to that raw, unfiltered, childhood delusion.

most people spend their entire lifetimes trying to become someone, without ever realising that becoming is a choice they could’ve made at any moment.

don’t dig outside. dig within deep enough. find the little switch buried in there that was responsible for all that doubt and turn it off.

find the other switch that turns on the delusion. turn it on. and never, I say NEVER allow the world to turn it off again.

this might feel like too much to ask at once… analysis paralysis is the reason why most people never become anything at all.

it needs to be done step by step. that’s how all the great mind of history have been created.

i urge you to click this link → mentalgameplaybook.com

palermo. 1:29am.

merahı’s cigarillo burning slowly. ice-cold whisky resting in my hand.

future blasting in one ear. the soundtrack of the city nightlife in the other.

i’ve been travelling around the island these past few days. exploring. wandering without a destination. living the life to the fullest.

now, sitting up on the balcony on this extremely hot night and staring into the endless lights stretching across the city, i came to the conclusion that i’ve reached the point where i genuinely love the game.

writing early in the morning while drinking espresso and smoking cigarettes.

sunbathing on the sundrenched beaches and swimming in crystal-clear water.

reading philosophy and admiring works of art that expand my soul on a daily basis.

starting random conversations with strangers and walking away with stories instead of business cards.

dressing like an old-money italian and flexing on the locals. (they have no drip.)

i have this deeply embedded aristocracy hidden in the depths of my soul.

i can feel the need for adventure flowing through my veins the moment i wake up.

wageslaving? 9–5 job?

nah.

it’s better to stack piles of money through bringing your vision into this world.

imagining. creating. having a mysterious source of income and wandering through life like a modern-day don quixote.

never too comfortable. always on top of the wave.

there was a time in my life when i felt like everything was against me.

i was trying TOO HARD. chasing instead of attracting.

looking for answers everywhere except the only place they could ever exist.

my own mind.

when you get your mind right, you no longer force.

you flow through life.

it becomes a play.

you start trusting yourself and following your instincts.

you stop obsessing over outcomes and simply focus on playing your game.

take on side quests that unexpectedly become the main story.

miss a train. meet someone new.

walk down the wrong street. discover your favourite café.

get to know yourself and live in a way that brings you alive instead of simply keeping you busy.

and that’s the whole secret.

when you truly love what you do, consistency isn’t something you force yourself to keep up with.

fulfilling your duties becomes as natural as the air you breathe and the blink of your eye.

the moment your work becomes an extension of who you are, you will never work a single day of your life from then on.

but as i said...

it all begins in the mind.

i’ve rebuilt mine from the ground up.

if you want to rebuild yours, come and let me show you how.

→ mentalgameplaybook.com

the 21-year-old queen of egypt is exiled from her own city. her brother sits on her throne while his soldiers guard every gate with the orders to kill her on sight. the ruler of rome, julius caesar, is currently occupying the palace.

at dusk a small boat slides into the harbor.

one merchant, one piece of cargo: a sack for bedclothes, tied with a cord. the servant carries it past the guards and unties it at caesar’s feet.

the exiled queen rolls out onto the floor in the fashion of a delivered gift, at the feet of the most powerful man in the world.

what happened next remains a mystery, but by morning, she is his lover. and within the year, she is back on her throne.

a few years later, caesar lies dead. rome splits among his heirs, and the richest half of the empire, the east, falls to mark antony.

now the new ruler of rome travels east. he has summoned the queen of egypt to tarsus, to answer for her politics.

he waits on a tribunal in the marketplace next to a riverbank. she is late.

at some point, a heavy scent of perfume fills the entire place. clouds of incense drifting from the water, settling over the riverbanks.

from the horizon a magnificent barge finally emerges. shiny golden stern. huge purple sails. silver oars beating the river in rhythm to flutes.

she lies beneath a canopy of gold, dressed as the goddess venus. boys costumed as cupids fan her on either side. her maids, dressed as sea nymphs, work the ropes and the rudder.

the marketplace drains. stall by stall, the whole city moves to the riverbank, until antony, the most powerful man in the world, sits on his tribunal alone.

a whisper runs through tarsus: venus has come to feast with bacchus, for the good of asia.

antony sends word inviting the queen to dinner. she replies that he should come to her.

he goes.

two men ruled the world in the lifetime of cleopatra.

she owned them both.

among many others, she is the prominent example of how powerful seduction can be.

she owned them to a degree that caesar left roman legions behind to hold her throne, and antony abandoned his own fleet mid-battle to chase her ship.

why?

neither overly beautiful, nor privileged or influential by herself, cleopatra mastered the art of creating compelling illusions to the highest degree. the darkest, most potent form of seduction.

and this is why, whatever you might assume, today these abilities matter more than ever before.

back then, the world ran on open force. armies, walls, and thrones taken by the sword.

today, everything runs through indirection. politicians, lawyers, sellers, influencers, they all do the same thing: they make you want what they already decided you should want, and they let you believe you decided it. and those who are doing the best are not necessarily the most talented, but very often are simply better seducers than the rest.

it’s a late night as I’m writing this.

dim red led lights beneath the glow of three monitors in my dark room.

a couple tabs open on casanova’s conquests. another few on jung’s anima and ovid’s art of love.

I’ve been buried in these rabbit holes for the past week. empty redbull cans scattered all over my desk, next to a dog-eared ‘art of seduction’ by robert greene lying face-down next to my keyboards.

tonight we descend into the deepest corners of the oldest game there is.

the reason it all works. the faces the seducer can wear. all the phases of the fall. and ultimately, the one defense against it. the same one the only man who could resist cleopatra used.

let’s get into it.

to seduce is to die as reality and reconstitute oneself as illusion. — jean baudrillard, seduction

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it’s another late evening in my suburban village.

I have a ton of work tonight… yet I’m sitting out on my terrace, admiring the sunset, listening to the interstellar soundtrack and… thinking.

the cornfield chase on the speaker, while I watch a combine crawl through the cornfield next to my garden. ironic.

looking at me rn, most people would probably call me unproductive.

but the thoughts I’m marinating in are the first domino of the entire night.

it’s a mandatory part of my routine: visualizing the desired outcome before every work block. setting the cause in action before going into effect.

by the time I’m in my lab and actually working, I’m wired to CONQUER. my mind is operating on the right frequency, and my body simply follows. what takes others sheer force, moves through me on its own.

and it’s not just that.

before the gym, the last rep is already lifted. before any negotiations, it has already gone my way.

our brains work in such a simple way. all they need is a gentle suggestion to know which direction to move, yet most people decide to play the fool’s game. grinding through on raw willpower. pushing the car uphill instead of getting in and driving it.

the subconscious mind is an ocean compared to the conscious drop. it runs roughly 95% of everything you do, yet it’s the little conscious switch that puts it all in motion.

when you learn to flip that switch deliberately, you will be surprised how little force life actually requires.

in time, you will not even need the switch.

that’s why it’s called AUTOSUGGESTION. you condition your brain to automatically suggest the right thoughts before the course of every action.

instead of brute forcing through life, you flow with it. your mind&body work in perfect alignment with each other and the world outside starts obeying the one inside.

and that’s exactly what we’re about to hardwire into you.

what you are about to read is the 3rd part of the CIPHER PROTOCOLS.

in part I we installed your purpose: the target. in part II we expanded your imagination: the capability to draw pictures of it. today we will begin to combine both: utilize your imagination to manufacture the experience of your desired outcomes, and use it to reprogram the force beneath everything you do. the subconscious mind.

inside you will find:

the hidden power of words: how the ancients cursed, blessed and healed themselves with a single repeated sentence.

the neuroscience: why your brain does not argue with what it hears on repeat.

and THE PROTOCOL: the exact staged system for writing your own code. the same one I run every day from my terrace.

12$/mo. less than a mediocre lunch for the operating manual to your own head.

access this and many other premium datasets by clicking the upgrade link below.

see you on the other side.

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//TRANSMISSION 01: [CIPHERON]

I’m standing in the middle of a vast, grey plain.

no horizon. no sky. just an endless expanse of something between fog and smoke that swallows everything beyond arm’s reach.

and this sound...

it is not the sound of battle. it’s something worse. the sound of its aftermath.

of things already broken that cannot be unbroken. voices I recognize coming from directions I can’t locate. people I love calling out from somewhere inside this vast, never ending grey.

they’re not calling for help. they’re calling for me.

I try to move toward them. but I can’t.

my feet are trapped in the ground. as if something outside of me decided that this is where I stand, and all I can do is simply watch.

I watch the ones closest to me pay prices I never asked them to pay.

I see the cost of what I am doing written on faces I swore I would do anything to protect.

the relationships that thinned and snapped under the weight of my mission.

the people who reached for me and found someone else. someone they lost. someone they don’t recognize anymore.

someone so consumed he doesn’t even notice them.

someone so blinded by the mission he would sacrifice anything just to get to the destination.

and I want to scream that I see them. that I notice. that it was all for them.

but however much I try, I cannot get the words out.

and then at once, I move again.

I realize I could have been moving this whole time. but now... it’s too late to turn back.

I’m moving upward. upward. upward. the voices thin below me, stretched by the height, until they go out one by one, like candles. until the fog falls below me completely.

I can see everything clearly now. I’m at the top of the mountain. thousands gathered below me.

I raise my hand. thousands follow. they begin chanting my name.

everything I was climbing for. finally delivered.

and then I turn around.

and I realize there is another person at the far bank of the summit.

I walk up to him.

he stands at the very edge, turned the other way, hooded, perfectly still. watching something below that I cannot see. as if he had been standing there long before I arrived. as if this summit had never been empty at all.

he doesn’t turn.

“you’re late.”

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//TRANSMISSION 02: [G2Ø]

i wasn’t in bed.

that’s the first thing. i never made it to bed. fell asleep in the chair at the desk again, macbooks still open, the screen long gone black, camel burned down to ashes.

in a split second, everything disappeared from sight.

only thing left was the dream that took me right there, sitting up. like it wanted me to sleep deprive myself.

when i came to my senses, i realised...

i’m at a fire.

not a campfire. a proper fire. the kind i totally sketched inside my manic mind. and i mean it.

a few minutes of deliberately crouching at it, hands out to the flames, remain the only thing i see clearly...

the hands that produce masterpieces are yet again on fire, ink still placed beside me from something i wrote i have no recollection of.

there is not a single cloud that could darken my satisfaction.

yet, i look up and far beyond the fire i see a mountain. black against a sky the colour of a bruise.

is it someone climbing towards me? or have i overdosed semax again?

i rub my eyes in disbelief. it’s not the semax talking no more. i actually see a figure. small at first, way down the slope, then as it gets closer it becomes bigger. coming up steady in my direction. no rush.

the way you confidently walk when you already know you’re going to get there. insecurity is the biggest driver of change. this unknown figure marches ahead like he owns this place.

the fog makes it hard to see the face. it is too dark to even try. but that black hood seems familiar...

i know the shape. i know it the way you know your own reflection in a mirror before you’ve consciously clocked it is you.

in quantum physics there is a rule called wave particle duality. it basically describes how light and dark can exist in two completely different states at once. i didn’t believe it until now.

i finally woke up.

what a blessing it is to look around and see pieces of my mind scattered around everywhere.

i looked down at the snow between the fire and the slope. no snowbunnies around. fuck. and there is a weird feel to this snow. more wet, and ashy like...

did i really smoke up a camel up there? well.well.well. where there’s a schizo... there’s a stack of nicotine.

one set of footprints on the ground.

coming UP the mountain. toward my fire.

undoubtedly, the dark figure was climbing still. still hasn’t reached me tho, so who made the prints & why did they lead to where i was already sat... & why... when i took a closer look, were they the exact size of mine?

the dark figure stopped. still can’t see the face of a stranger. i could feel his eyes on me even with no face. it felt like it recognises me.

eyes i had been holding in shut for years, at last opened by themselves, and began reciting the quotes of the lost founders i had been studying... in my own raspy voice, from all the way down there...

there he is.

& i woke up in the chair with my heart pounding and my hand already reaching for the phone before i knew why.

i can’t recall if i decided to call him, or my hand did. doesn’t matter. a few hours of deeply listening to subliminals can explain why everything stays in motion before i find out what i really wanted.

genuinely.

i’ve been thinking about mountains way 2 much. at least, that’s what i told myself. lighting one, thumb over his name.

it’s just the writing bleeding into the sleep.

you spend enough nights building a myth & the myth starts to build back. it incepts into your dreams, sits quietly at your fire and wears your footprints.

that’s all it is.

that’s what i told myself.

i stand on it, even though...

i didn’t believe it. but i stand on what i told myself.

meet me at the station. i’m already moving.

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//TRANSMISSION 03: [CIPHERON]

I wake up sweating.

my heart is pumping. I’m trying to catch my breath.

I look at the digital clock across the room. glowing white led letters display: 2:21 AM.

I put my robe on. step out on the terrace.

there had been a storm tonight... the tiles are still wet under my feet, and the air carries that peaceful, electric calm that only comes after zeus has unloaded his anger.

I wipe the rain off the chair and sit down in that cold wash of the moonlight.

this dream has been haunting me since I was a little kid.

I’ve been there thousands of times before. I already memorized every single detail of it, every frame.

I know it by heart. I can recreate it in my imagination at any given moment. every voice, every meter of that climb.

and now... for the first time ever, something changed.

tonight, when I stood on that top, I realized I was not alone up there.

it felt so mysterious. so heavily encrypted. yet at the same time so... familiar?

it feels like I’ve met him a thousand times already. but searching in the depths of my memory, I cannot connect it with anything.

carl jung believed that dreams are messages from the subconscious. letters from the part of you that sees everything you refuse to look at, written in the only language it has: symbols.

and so, sitting under this pale wash of moonlight, one question is driving me crazy: what is my subconscious trying to tell me?

is it a prophecy? a message... maybe a warning?

I reach for my phone.

there is only one person that could possibly understand me. he always does.

he picks up on the first ring. no sleep in his voice.

“I was about to call you.”

“yo bro, listen, I need to tell you something.”

“see you in 30 minutes. same place as always.”

//TRANSMISSION 04: [G2Ø]

he was already there when i popped down the ramp.

or was i already there when he popped down the ramp. it is getting quite late, so the memory’s slippery. i am not going to act like it isn’t.

moneybagg yo ‘me vs me’ blasting on full volume inside my noise cancelling headphones. quite fitting.

the question is... which one was the real me?

one of us was leaning on the pillar under the dead departure board & one of us walked through the gates of darkness. i literally could not tell you which of those was me.

sometimes a situation requires no real greeting. a simple two nods and the piercing silence that means report.

station’s empty at this dark hour. that specific eerie spot designed to hold thousands of humans, holding 2 crazy demi gods.

since it was so silent, the aesthetics gods did us a favour with a flickering amber light, pouring down rain that bounced off the roof.

there was a fundamental saying in my polish family that you shouldn’t begin taking action before a clear sign makes an appearance...

...so i grew quite surprised when the bird of the night, the bat, stirred upwards giving us a green light. it seemed unbelievable at first, but i brushed it off...

i lit a marlboro red & held the pack out to him.

“been a while,” i said. “go”

without hesitation, he went. i’ll let him tell his own numbers, but i watched him the way i watch everyone now. i can’t turn off my manipulative brain anymore.

to deceive people almost perfectly, and then to be seen through by a certain omniscient being. to be smashed into smithereens, and to be made to blush more than death... is a real test of character i had to experience.

grinning and keeping quiet when i told him he is a brilliant example of living above all humanity.

it’s in the way he holds still even under a gut wrenching pressure.

sensational. the mission does that to you if you go deep enough.

then he tipped his chin at me. my turn.

so i gave it to him straight, no fluff. with this guy i can paint everything black and white, and i know he will understand. often even things i don’t see myself.

i handed him all the receipts. the sweet stuff and the horror stuff. everything laid out in front of him.

intel that would scare off most humans. but not him.

& he nodded slowly. taking it all in.

and said... “you look different”

“so do you”

“no” he looked at me with almost death like eyes...

“you look like me”

i laughed.

he did not.

in the midst of these drug hazed nights, i decided not to ask any further questions. i’ve seen it myself.

we smoked two cigarettes down to the filter on that platform. i watched him light his off mine, the little intimacy of it, cherry to tip. lovely.

but when i went to stub mine out in the bin by the pillar... there was two dead ones in there already.

& i’d only lit one.

i didn’t see him go anywhere near that bin.

strange...

i stood there a second too long looking at two filters when there should’ve been just one... i tried to look outside this dream, but i ended up awakening...

“you good” he said. not really a question.

“yeah alright,” i said. “let’s walk, i wanna ask you something, and this ain’t the place for it”

“the bridge?”

“i am already there”

//TRANSMISSION 05: [CIPHERON]

12 years earlier. scout camp in mazury, poland.

me and my friend got caught sneaking food out of the camp kitchen after lights-out.

the punishment, old scout school: guard the fire the whole night. keep it alive till sunrise. the scoutmaster would come out of his tent to check on us every hour and a half.

at first it felt like a reward, not a punishment. two boys, a fire, a free pass to skip sleep.

we talked about everything. football. girls. plans for the summer. hours passed and the camp behind us went completely silent.

and then, somewhere deep into the night, something changed…

the forest went quiet in a way I had never heard before. not silent. quiet like something listening.

and the conversation changed on its own. two kids who were arguing about football an hour earlier were suddenly telling each other things they had never told anyone. what we were afraid of. what our fathers were like. what we wanted to become.

I remember, at some point, mid-sentence, a strange feeling I couldn’t name back then: that I wasn’t listening to him anymore. I was remembering things he said before he said them. as if the fire was passing our thoughts back and forth between us, and it stopped mattering whose mouth they came out of.

at some point the scoutmaster came again. he sat down by the fire, asked if we knew what time it was.

“past three,” we said.

his eyes lit up as if that confirmed something.

the old campers had a name for this time of the night, he said: the hour of the wolf. it’s the hour when most people die, when most children are born, when sleepers are haunted with their darkest nightmares, and those awake are visited by their deepest fears.

the old legend says that when two people talk soulfully during this hour... they become each other for a moment, before returning to themselves and resuming their usual lives.

we asked him if it was true.

he looked at the fire for a long moment. then he got up and walked back into the dark.

I didn’t think about it for twelve years.

until…

“if you could sit at one table and have a discussion with any 5 men from history... who gets a chair?”,

g2Ø asks me, looking straight in the eyes, in some godforsaken rat hole in the middle of the night.

3 packs of cigs and 400mg of modafinil later, and we’re still there.

‘alexander the great. guy thought himself to be the son of zeus destined to rule the world and just took it.’

‘the GOAT,’ he said with the nod of approval.

‘da vinci. the imagination far exceeding his age. mf sketched helicopters while the rest of the world was still figuring out plumbing.

rockefeller. calculation & self-control. man, he was scary... he would proclaim your company dead, and stare at you with a poker face until you folded and handed it to him.’

he exhales smoke slowly, nods. ‘sounds familiar.’

‘jung. the father of analytical psychology. instead of running away from his demons, he sat down and interrogated them.’

‘and... beethoven.’

‘beethoven??’

‘I respect resilience above all. guy went deaf as a fcking musician and still mogged everyone else. you?’

a villain smirk creeps up on his face. he reaches for his jacket and pulls out something that looks like a crumpled bag of dried herbs.

‘want to meet them?’

//TRANSMISSION 06: [G2Ø]

“want to meet them?”

that’s my famous last words before my hand reaches into my jacket. it remains unspoken of what is inside this bag... just know i got it from a very friendly guy in colombia. (feds please, do not drone strike me)

been waiting the whole night to rip it out at the perfect hour that’d make the most sense.

he looks at the bag. then at me, and something in his face says something a cold mfer would understand...

the flicker of a man who’s about to follow me inside the unknown, knowing there is no going back from it.

“yeah” he says.

the secret to success is to always agree to step into the unknown with me. cipheron took that philosophy straight to his heart.

i take him back to my lab. the place that should be closely monitored by the secret services, but luckily is not. hence why, 2 psychopathic operators can scheme in peace. beautiful.

i clear the table. bubble wraps and empty killa cans everywhere. seems like a crazy alchemist lived here. no coincidence here.

we sit across from each other. i split the bag.

no ritual needed. two living demi gods who’ve been awake since the dead middle of the night, sitting in a green lit room that smells of semax & niche cigarettes... i am a charming man, the aesthetic is all we need.

it starts to kick in.

the walls start breathing slowly. inhale exhale inhale exhale. i knew it was alive the whole time.

the neon green leds run down the walls like a waterfall.

cipheron is saying something. his mouth is moving, i can see it. can’t hear the words anymore, just the frequency he is dialled in on...

driven by the stim cocktail i made, our frequencies are matching. identical.

i try to embrace it. but we have reached the highest frequency in the universe. pure consciousness. i feel GODLY.

that’s the only word. godly.

i am at the head of the table. mind & matter do not exist anymore. everything goes still. calm.

familiar faces come up out of the dark. i am not seeing things. the 5 masterminds that guide my entire life. sat at the oval table. with me and cipheron.

nietzsche takes the chair on my right. the eyes that went mad from seeing the abyss, never blinked. the first thing he does is smile at me, which is worse than anything he could say, because his smile could only mean... “there you are son, I wondered how long the rope over the abyss would hold you”

freud takes the left. the coked up founding father of psychoanalysis. cuban cigar already lit. of course it is. the smoke curling up in a slow spiral, staring obsessively into my eyes like i’m a dream he hasn’t interpreted yet. he taps ashes off, and waits. laying our deepest desires onto the table.

munger. old, dry, the eyes like a sort of monster who priced me the second he walked in & found me slightly overvalued. he brought a little leather notebook with him. inside, it states... invert. always invert. this mf is going to make me look at the whole night backwards and i already dread it. ffs.

napoleon doesn’t take a chair. he stands. probably too small for a chair anyway. wearing the whole of europe on his face, every battle he fought, he rehearsed a few hundred times before... the exact philosophy i preach. he strikes a look at me like a fellow general who is bound to conquer. i know he finds this night promising.

& churchill. at the very far end. heavy in the chair. cuban cigar to match freud’s. the bulldog stillness of a man who held a nation together at its darkest hour by simply refusing to break. he does not speak yet, he is observing my every move, like a master strategist he is. he brings the game theory to the table.

my ultimate five i assembled out of exhausting my eyes to the max reading biographies at hours the universe designed for sleep... sat now at my table, come up out of the dark to judge us.

& across the impossible length of the table... so far now i can barely make him out, sits him. cipheron.

with his own council rising around him.

the world made this table a paradise for us.

it begins with me.

nietzsche leans in & asks me the question about the eternal recurrence... would i live this exact night again, this exact life...?

munger cuts across him before i can answer, dry as bone, “wrong question. the question is what would you have to become to WANT to.”

freud’s already piping up, stoned like a biblical whore, talking about the mountain & the figure at the fire... “you understand the man climbing toward you was never your father. you understand whose face it was”

my man napoleon is mapping my next five moves across the table in lines of sight. what a guy. reminds me of someone.

& churchill just keeps watching, saying nothing, until finally he opens his mouth & the whole room goes quiet...

& he doesn’t address me.

he addresses the table.

he says, in that raspy old voice that tasted too much tobacco:

“and how long,” cigar to the black water of the air, “has the young man intended to keep pretending there are two of him.”

i laugh it off. every head at the table turns...

not at me. not churchill. but at the space between us. as if the man they were talking about this whole time was sitting right there.

i looked across all dimensions and dreams to find him.

and he was in my chair.

this whole time.

all this time, made me think he was gone... but.

i pass out. completely lost consciousness...

...and the last thing i remember clearly is the ceiling of the villa gliding freely like the sky.

not a metaphor tho. i watched cracks in it run like rivers searching for the sea, watched it go deep and wide... and all that was racing on my mind was... oh. it is opening. good. about time.

everything i experienced before blacking out was still ringing in me.

i drift into the void. i can’t take it any longer.

i end up in the bathtub. no water in it. never has been. i climb in fully clothed, lie back and throw a towel over my eyes. darkness has always been my safe spot.

turkish royale in my mouth. lit. i think at least. burning rainbow-like colours behind the towel every time i take a swig. a cig inside the bathtub is a rare but delightful phenomenon.

i can hear myself mumbling. “never eat pussy after semax, it’s deadly” “real hard mfs take pinealon to get some deep shut eye, fuck your melatonin gummies”

it’s light now. properly. i can feel the morning sunrise pressing on the blackout curtains.

i got the answer i searched for, but there is too much to be said for it. normal minds won’t comprehend the depth anyway.

imma keep replaying this schizo night for the rest of my life, with enough stimulant abuse i’ll get to rewatch in 4k...

i never intended to die so young... and before i black out again... all i can mumble is...

“take me home”

“it’s tim-e-e-e”

//TRANSMISSION 07: [CIPHERON]

30 minutes later.

it’s beginning to get light already.

rays of the rising sun are breaking through half broken windows of the abandoned villa on the edge of the city. some pre-war ruin we found months ago and claimed without a word, the way you claim things nobody else wants.

g2Ø calls it the lab. one room deep, strung with his green leds and littered with empty killa cans we left at our last meeting. it probably even deserves the name.

the cleared table with the empty bag still on it stands where we left it. at some point we must have drifted off to opposite corners of the villa, the way you do when it starts to pull.

g2Ø lies sprawled in a bathtub with no water with a cig in his mouth and a towel over his eyes. he has been mumbling something about banned soviet nootropics and how the west never declassified the good ones for the past 20 minutes.

damn that’s so true, I reply from time to time without registering a single word he said.

I’m sat up like a godfather on a giant sofa in the salon. there is no wall between the bathroom and the salon, just a naked doorframe and a pile of bricks somebody gave up on halfway. I’m wearing shades but the shine is getting unbearable. suddenly everything became so vivid. so colorful.

the way my guy over there holds his cig is so majestic…

these are the hands that will sign the new world order. why did I even think that? anyways…

and then, from somewhere deep into the villa, where there should be nothing but empty rooms and pigeon shit... we can hear wood. long, heavy creaks. the sound of furniture being dragged across an old floor, as if someone was setting a table.

‘did you hear it?’ - we both said at the same time.

I take off the shades. g2Ø takes the towel off his eyes.

we both stand up as if synced by some silent metronome only our bodies can hear... and walk through the double doors at the end of the hall.

‘we’ve been waiting for you’

said the man with a golden breastplate and eyes of someone who has never once been waiting, from the end of a long oval table.

alexander, good to see ya… I said as if that situation was perfectly normal.

I look to the sides.

da vinci sits next to some half-built machine, that looks like a wing… but I’m not sure whether it belongs to a bird or to a man. anyways… he doesn’t even look up.

rockefeller in a perfect three-part black suit staring at me with a poker face as if trying to appraise my soul. calculating what it’s worth, and how much under market he could get it for.

jung, wrapped in cigar smoke, looking at me from below his round glasses and taking notes attentively.

and beethoven, palms flat on the table, eyes closed, didn’t even hear my coming... yeah, I forgot.

there is one chair at our end of the table. one.

g2Ø looks at me. I look at him. he gestures at the chair like a gentleman.

I sit. he stays standing behind it, hands on the backrest. like an advocate.

//TRANSMISSION 08: [CIPHERON]

I expect a welcome. a reason. an agenda.

instead... they simply return to their conversation. as if we were 15 minutes early to a meeting that has been running for centuries.

alexander and rockefeller are mid-argument. an empire must be taken, alexander says, the way you say something you’ve already proven. rockefeller doesn’t even raise his voice: taken empires burn with their takers. built ones compound.

da vinci sketches. jung writes. beethoven… I don’t even know what beethoven is doing.

we sit through it like two kids at the adults’ dinner.

at some point rockefeller, without breaking eye contact with alexander, slides a glass down the table.

it stops precisely between the two of us.

one glass.

neither of us touches it.

then jung closes his notebook. a soft clap. the argument stops as if someone cut its power.

he looks at me. then at g2Ø. then at me again. slowly, the way a doctor reads an x-ray.

“sit down, son.”

I am already sitting.

nobody corrects him. neither do we.

alexander leans forward. the light of the rising sun slides down the golden breastplate.

“I took everything a man can take from this world. so answer me... what will you do when there is nothing left to take?”

the question lands somewhere under my ribs. I open my mouth...

“keep marching. there’s no finish line,” g2Ø says behind me. an air of certainty in his voice.

the exact words that were forming in my throat. letter by letter.

alexander looks at him for a long moment. then at me. then nods, as if he received the answer from the man he asked.

rockefeller turns his head. the poker face now aimed fully at g2Ø for the first time.

“I retired with more money than god and spent 40 years giving it away. name your number, young man. the one where YOU stop.”

silence.

I have watched g2Ø read every human being that ever sat across from him. price them, fold them, own them. now I watch him meet the original.

he holds the stare for 5 seconds. then, for the first time since I’ve known him... he looks away. there’s no such number, he thought. or I thought?

da vinci looks up from the machine. once. one question, aimed between us like he can’t decide who deserves it:

“I left more unfinished than any man who ever lived. it haunts me still. the thing you are building... will you finish it?”

“yes.” we say it at the same time. same breath, same tone.

he smiles into his sketch and doesn’t look up again.

jung takes off his glasses. cleans them. puts them back on. a man buying time he doesn’t need. for our sake, not his.

“one small question. when did you two meet? the exact day.”

easy. I reach for it.

it’s not there…

I look at g2Ø. he is looking at me the same way I am looking at him.

“take your time,” says jung, and writes something down.

then he leans forward. and the whole room leans with him.

“the hooded one on the summit. you already know who he is. SAY IT”

“he’s...” ... “he’s...”

both of us. at the same time. the same first word.

both of us stop.

silence.

beethoven’s fingers spread wider on the wood, as if that silence was the loudest thing said all night.

and then he stands.

he walks around the table, slow, and stops in front of us.

he puts his palm flat on a chest.

I will not tell you whose. I honestly do not know.

“it will be taken,” he says, in a voice like cracked bronze. “answer anyway.”

and he sits back down.

that’s it. that is the entire verdict.

the council returns to its argument mid-sentence, as if the audience had simply ended. da vinci’s pencil. jung’s notes. the glass between us, still full.

we stand up. nobody looks at us anymore.

and walking back through the double doors, the last thing I hear is alexander’s voice, half lost in the argument:

“...he will learn the same way we did.”

he.

I didn’t ask which one of us he meant.

I’m not sure there was an answer.

//TRANSMISSION 09:[G2Ø]

i come back into my body slowly.

the villa’s letting the golden sunrise through the half smashed windows. it’s a nice touch after integrating the hidden aspects of my psychotic personality.

i don’t remember standing. somehow i am.

deep in the villa. where there is nothing but empty rooms, pigeon shit and fresh aroma of some worthy pussy.

...heavy furniture.

being dragged. patient creaks across a floor older than my whole bloodline.

this villa is painted as in one of davinci’s masterpieces.

all of it will turn to dust. none of this matters. so what does?

understand what i am. i manipulate humans for money. that’s the whole thing.

2 years i’ve sat across from every kind of human being & clocked the unhealed trauma before my negroni lands on the table.

i have never once walked into a room i couldn’t see right through.

i walk into this one. and my mind gets foggy...

finally. a worthy opponent.

for the first time in my life i’m the one being played. sat next to men i BUILT myself out of. i ate everything they’d share with me.

now they’re looking at me the way i look at everyone, and there is nowhere for me to escape...

speaking from experience. you cannot out see the masters who taught you everything you know.

that’s the horror.

i don’t fear death.

i am fucking afraid of being seen.

let them ask their stupid questions. i can take it. more so, i already know my throat’s gonna answer anything before a question even lands.

every seam of this whole reckoning where i kept expecting 2. and the count always came back 1.

“now you can...”

jung cuts me off. he asks the day we met exactly, and as we reach for the day we end up holding nothing.

i won’t tell you.

i’ve stopped being able to tell you anything.

i might be alone in this feeling... but i don’t regret detaching.

detaching with intention has to mean something.

cipheron nods with a grin on his face.

//FINAL WORDS: [G2Ø]

the sun’s up. the night’s filed. i am seriously gassed out living this way.

we are entering a new era. one that settles all of my deepest questions. the trilogy ends when one of us makes it out alive...

...or when the mask finally falls off revealing we are a single entity.

i already know which.

i think i’ve known since the fire lit up.

i’m just not ready to be alone in this feeling.

so i’ll keep him.

a little longer.

whichever one of us you found first... that’s the real one.

hold onto him.

that’s the only proof either of us have we were ever here at all.

keep it to yourself.

two of us walked you through this sensational night.

or one did. you’ll decide that for yourself. same way we still are.

but you didn’t read this far by accident. no guy sits through an 8,000 word essay at the hour he is the most vulnerable, unless something deeply hidden finally starts to click inside him.

if you felt it... then you already know you’re destined to be one of us.

ha. you were before you found this piece. trust me.

so. here’s your 2 options:

the schizo hub. where you meet the likeminded schizo operators. learn the ins and outs of deep psychology and manipulation. the full frameworks of social dynamics and identity work. the soviet nootropics protocols. the whole unfiltered truth about succeeding as a man. click here to join up.

the schizo elite. the premium emails delving deep into psychological frameworks that explain why you do what you do. business and marketing breakdowns that print money. mindset shifts that took me years to figure out. click here to sub up.

ditch the life you hate. start a new one. a schizo life.

meet us at the top of the mountain.

stay schizo.

always.

g2Ø x cipheron

323 BC, the palace of nebuchadnezzar, babylon.

on a bed in the royal chamber, lies the greatest conqueror the world has ever known.

in less than 10 years, he transformed a small macedonian kingdom into the mightiest empire the world has ever seen. stretching from greece, through egypt and persia, all the way to india.

he marched over 22,000 miles with his army. fought over 20 major battles. won every single one of them.

and now he lies here. sweating. shaking. slowly drowning in his own body.

outside the chamber, the riot spreads over the entire camp. thousands of veterans refuse to accept it. they crossed deserts for him. took arrows for him. and now they can’t even look at him one last time.

to avoid more bloodshed, they are let in, one by one, to file past his bed until the entire room has passed through. he can no longer speak to them. he can only move his eyes.

the closest to the bed stand his generals. for the past few days they were trying to get one answer out of him.

there is no heir. no successor. no plan. one hour without an answer is one hour closer to absolute chaos.

so they lean in and ask again:

to whom do you leave the empire?

the entire chamber goes quiet.

the dying man gathers the last of his strength. and with his final breath, he answers:

“to the strongest.”

his eyes close. the ring slips from his hand.

the man who conquered the entire known world lies dead at 32.

what you just begun reading is not some fancy novel, nor science fiction cinema.

the greatest legend of all... was real.

alexander the great was 22 years old when he took his entire army, crossed into asia and invaded the persian empire, the mightiest empire on the face of the planet, with 30 days of supplies and no plan of return.

by 25 he owned it.

and even then he kept going. through the steppes of central asia, through the mountains of afghanistan. all the way to the rainforests of india.

and when he finally conquered everything he possibly could, he died. just like that. at the age modern man barely finishes his degree.

but if you think all of that can be explained by luck or circumstances, you couldn’t be more wrong. that man was EXTRAORDINARY in all aspects imaginable.

he was a fiery orator, capable of moving the hearts and minds of the most exhausted, mutinous men on earth.

he was a master strategist, always 3 steps ahead of his enemy on the battlefield.

he was an aristocrat of the soul. a scholar trained by aristotle himself in mathematics, biology, astronomy and medicine. a physician who treated his own wounded with his own hands.

and above all else, he was a man who believed, with total conviction, that he was the son of a god, destined for a life of eternal glory.

we’re about to descend into the mind of a man who built a bridge through the sea when he couldn’t take an island.

who poured out the only drop of water he had in the desert because his army had none.

who named 70 cities after himself, and one after his fcking horse.

alexander the great might be the single most influential figure in the history of humanity. and it is NOT an exaggeration.

that man alone spread greek thought and culture across three continents, from egypt to the borders of india, shaping the language, art, philosophy and religion of the entire ancient world for the next millennias. his actions have impact on modern world till this day. 2500 years after he is gone.

every great man who came after him has been trying to deliberately copy him ever since.

julius caesar himself wept in front of his statue, knowing he would never match his glory. let that sink in.

and with all that being said, he is also the single most important figure for me.

since the moment I turned 15 and read his biography for the first time, I became absolutely obsessed with this man and the way he lived his life.

from then on I’ve read countless books on his person. tens of podcasts and articles. and even now I can’t say I know everything about him. this guy... was he even human?

to say that I think about him everyday would not be an exaggeration.

when I make a decision, I ask what he would have done with it.

when I think I’ve done enough, I remind myself he was the king of the world at 25.

when looking at the midnight moon, I think: I look at the same moon as HE once did.

and even now... a marble bust of alexander on my desk stares directly at me as I’m writing these words.

and looking back at him always gives me a little more fuel. a little more ammo to keep going.

so listen up. here’s what we’re going to dig into. and I’m NOT going to repeat myself.

this is not going to be another dry history lesson listing his battles and his dates.

this piece is a mental autopsy: a deep walk throughout the depths of his psyche, tracing back everything he achieved on the outside directly to the faculties inside his own mind.

• DATASET_1: SELF-CONCEPT. the myth, the origins, and what early mental conditioning can do to a man’s self-belief.

• DATASET_2: WILL & AUDACITY. the man who invaded the largest empire on earth with 30 days of food and 200 talents of debt. why he cut the knot instead of untying it. and why he refused half the persian empire when it was handed to him for free.

• DATASET_3: IMAGINATION. the renaissance man 2000 years before the renaissance. the physician, the scientist, the engineer, the poet and the city founder, all at once. and the grand vision for a new world order that came out of it.

• DATASET_4: CHARISMA. inside the most magnetic persona ever crafted. how one man made 40,000 exhausted soldiers walk 20,000 miles into the unknown.

• DATASET_5: POTHOS. his main driving factor. the reason he could never stop, and the reason he could never enjoy a single thing he took.

• DATASET_6: THE ALTER EGO. the other face of the conqueror and the dark shadow his alter ego cast on everything he did.

the entire mental architecture of the man who conquered the world, condensed into one piece.

and I’ll say it plainly: this is the only piece on alexander the great you will ever have to read.

let’s get into it.

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4:32 AM.

no alarm. my eyes just opened.

there had been a huge storm tonight... I’ve been hearing heavy rain hammering against my rooftop combined with raging thunderbolts while dreaming about empires that don’t exist yet.

I step out on the terrace.

now all that is left is that post-storm calm. rays of the rising sun are breaking through the cloudy sky, forming a scenery straight from the st. john’s apocalypse.

and standing there, watching the heavens split open, a thought comes to me...

even in the bible, god made man in his image. he projected adam to be his perfect copy. all for what?

modern men are therapized and medicated out of ever believing it. pathetic.

I do not flee from my own megalomania. nor should you.

I prefer to feed on it. day by day.

there is no better feeling than waking up and knowing that you are limitless. in every direction. unstoppable.

there was a time in my life when I would wake up at noon with my stomach in knots, feeling sorry that I’m alive.

but those times are long gone. that man does not exist anymore. I buried him deep, alongside all his excuses and humility.

all that is left now is this raw, uncompromisable god complex that bleeds into everything I do...

my inner alter ego whispers straight into my ear whenever I’m attempting to lower my standards in any way. this is beneath you. you know it.

whenever my thoughts suggest to take a day off, rest for a bit, slack off for a while, all I can hear is that voice coming from the depths of my psyche: you’ve promised. and we both remember what.

did I sign a pact with the devil? maybe. but what’s the alternative?

most people run the opposite program. they filter their entire existence through “who am I to want this?”

and the world happily answers: nobody. sit down. don’t cause trouble.

if you don’t assign yourself a certain value, the world surely will. and trust me... it won’t be high.

the main difference between winners and losers is not talent nor intelligence.

it is the altitude of the self-concept. because EVERYTHING else is downstream of it.

and if you’re ready to walk the same path as I do, come with me and let me show you how.

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TAKE THE CROWN.

searching for the origin in the depths of my memory, it all traces back to one night.

I was 15 years old. it was halloween. I went to the cinema with my then-girlfriend.

we went to the ‘night of horrors’ in the cinema. basically a marathon of movies and a whole night of watching shitty low-budget slashers.

it finished in the middle of the night. 3, maybe 4 am. then I remember going back home on a night bus which, to my surprise, was incredibly overcrowded. I could barely stand, not to mention finding a free seat.

there were shift workers coming in and out of the bus every time we passed another factory stop.

and looking at them, their faces all carried the exact same... meaninglessness?

these people looked all dead to me. literally.

showing signs of life, going through the motions, but completely dead inside. as if someone had switched them off years ago and nobody, including them, had noticed.

is my life going to look that way for the next 50 years? I began to wonder.

the question haunted me for the next 30 minutes of the ride, and when I finally came back home, I couldn’t close my eyes.

I took a blanket, quietly went to the balcony not to wake my parents, and spent the rest of the night stargazing.

and in there, in that cold halloween night, under that pitch black sky, I’ve made the most important decision of my life.

I will not live that way. I will not die that way. I’m simply better than this. whatever the cost may be, not me, nor anyone in my family will ever have to work a shift in their life.

and here’s what you have to realize: you have to make a decision.

not thousands of small decisions. not thousands of ‘I will change’. one, big, definite decision. and stick to it no matter what.

napoleon did not wait for the crown.

he took the crown from the pope’s hands and placed it on top of his own head.

nobody will hand you the crown either. YOU have to take it.

SURROUND YOURSELF WITH GIANTS.

curious what happened next?

the very morning I woke up, I broke up with that girlfriend (she wasn’t helping at all), uninstalled league of legends (I was playing like 10 hours a day) and got to work.

I’ve always been good at writing. I liked to write short stories and school essays nobody asked for, and so I got into copywriting (writing promo texts for local businesses).

2 weeks later I landed my first client.

it later evolved into many different businesses, but funnily enough, writing in itself is something I stick to till this day and is the very reason why you read this piece.

but back to what I was saying.

even with that side hustle, quitting gaming left a huge void in my time. and I learned to fill that void with... books.

I literally bought a book on every successful man you can find, but out of all of them, 1 stood out the most.

the biography of alexander the great.

it felt like a novel. a macedonian kid who believed himself to be descended from zeus and conquered the entire known world in less than 10 years.

since then I read every book on alexander I could find. later on caesar. napoleon. charlemagne and hannibal.

I became obsessed with these great men of history. I studied their mindset and their way of thinking.

tbh, I cut off from most of my friends and began spending time with my new friends.

and with time... something shifted.

when your company shifts, your reference point shifts as well.

my reference point was no longer the kid who scored more points on some meaningless exam, but alexander the great, who at an age not much greater than mine was already conquering the world.

and that’s what I’m trying to tell you: clean your environment from any mediocrity and replace it (even artificially) with the greatest company history has to offer.

with time, I could no longer see my life through the old lens at all. what used to impress me started looking small. what used to feel like ambition started sounding like an excuse. the bar hadn’t been raised. it had been replaced entirely, by men who considered continents a reasonable goal.

that’s the mechanism nobody teaches you: you don’t set your own standards. your environment sets them for you.

a wise man once said: you are the sum of the 5 people you spend the most time with. and damn, was he right.

with time I was a sum of alexander, napoleon, caesar, hannibal & charlemagne. and you ask me why I have such a high self-esteem?

onto the next one.

MYTHOLOGIZE YOUR STORY.

speaking of alexander the great... that man was a living myth.

before he was born, his mother reported having these strange dreams. in one of them, a thunderbolt strikes her womb and bursts into flames.

the father, philip II of macedon, also had a dream. he saw his wife’s womb sealed with the image of a lion.

on the day of the birth, one of the seven wonders of the ancient world, the temple of artemis, burned to the ground.

people whispered that on this day, a child was born who would conquer all of asia.

growing up he heard all these legends about himself. his mother kept telling him that he was descended from the legendary achilles, that he was the son of zeus himself, and that he was destined to rule the world.

now... who do you think this kid thought himself to be?

a living god. achilles’ reincarnation in its purest form.

he invaded the mightiest empire of his era with the idea that he simply cannot lose. and guess what? he did not.

the way you look at yourself, the way you look at your past as well as your future, is a direct blueprint for everything you’ll ever do.

most people run it backwards. they treat any loss as identity and any win as luck.

I failed because that’s who I am. I succeeded because I got lucky.

you have to reverse engineer it.

every win is identity. every loss is a lesson on the way to the inevitable.

more than that. you have to create your own story. your own ‘prophecy’. and brainwash yourself to believe it with the same certainty alexander believed his.

his mother wrote his myth for him. nobody is going to write yours.

so you write it yourself. and then you live up to it.

STACK THE EVIDENCE.

at first, your new identity will feel foreign, almost delusional so to say.

people will start saying you’ve changed. you’ve lost your mind. that you are just that... delusional.

but that’s alright. don’t expect chickens to understand an eagle learning to fly. they’ve spent their whole lives pecking at the ground.

they don’t have to believe you. YOU have to believe. and that’s the only concern worth carrying. and that’s what we are going to dig into...

now we walk onto slippery ground.

modern neuroscience today proves: your subconscious mind cannot properly distinguish between reality and imagination (more about this here:)

the imaginary experience serves the subconscious mind as evidence just as well as the real one.

therefore, you can convince yourself of your new identity... just by living it internally first.

travel to the future, so to say.

you have to learn to see your future playing out in ways you want before it actually happens.

once you’ve gathered a lot of mental evidence, start collecting it in the physical. read: act as if.

you begin living in the end-state of your prophecy.

at some point people start asking you: “how are you so calm?”, “how are you so confident?”

you’ve been there thousands of times before, and now you simply materialize what had already happened.

that’s how you do it. that’s how you become HIM.

KEEP THE FIRE BURNING.

and finally, we arrive at what you have to maintain in order to keep your fire burning.

you see, once you set out on this path, the world will try everything it can to get you off of it.

you will start seeing mediocrity everywhere. in conversations. in the small talk of everyday life. even in the people closest to you. but you have to endure it. you cannot let your fire be put out by their indifference.

that’s why it’s so crucial to expand your mental world.

the physical world can throw at you whatever it can, but a person with a strong mental world will not move an inch.

but as with anything valuable, you have to train it. use it and direct it as often as possible.

create your own rites. stretches of time when the only thing occupying your mind is your prophecy and the future you see ahead.

spend time with yourself alone. spend time with your idols and consult with them. napoleon hill constructed his own invisible council (an imaginary cabinet constructed of men he studied and admired) and consulted them each night.

commune with your future at least 2 times a day (for example in the morning and at night) and multiple times within the day.

keep believing. keep dreaming.

cipher ON.

ps. if this piece moved something in you, understand: this is just the free tier of my work.

the real machinery is in the premium archive. the CIPHER PROTOCOLS, the step-by-step series for engineering your mind just launched.

access these as well as many others premium datasets that will fundamentally change the way you operate:

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NORTH PACIFIC, some twelve years ago.

I’m commanding a fleet.

thousands of ships under my control, moving through a storm toward an enemy coastline only I can see. rain hammering the decks. men waiting for my signal. the fate of an entire army depends on the next order I give.

among hundreds of voices shouting through the storm, I catch one. weird. muffled. as if from a great distance.

can you repeat what I said?

I ignore it. there’s no time for that. the coastline is very close now. cannons loaded. every ship in position.

the voice again. louder. still not from this world.

can you repeat what I said?

not now. this is the moment I’ve been waiting for my entire life. I raise my hand. thousands await my command to strike.

hold your lines. not yet. wait for it.

I’m ready to give out the order.

and then, at max volume:

FOR THE THIRD TIME. CAN YOU REPEAT WHAT I JUST SAID.

the storm dissolves. the scene straight from the epic turns into a mundane view of concrete blocks out of a school classroom window.

all I can hear is laughter. the whole class staring at me. my whole fleet sunk in half a second, replaced by fluorescent lights and a blackboard full of numbers.

this was the first time I died.

now it’s time for the resurrection.

it’s july 9, 9:20 PM as I’m writing these words.

I’m sitting out on my terrace. green tea & pack of yellow camels on the table. noir jazz playing from the inside, mixing with the sound of nightly crickets that finally get to live. the sun is going down and the air is cooling off.

now you might wonder what made me drift into such reflections on this hot summer evening?

some 15 minutes ago, driving back home from the gym through my neighbourhood, I passed a group of kids playing in the field. couldn’t be older than 5 or 6. sticks in their hands, invisible enemies all around them, entire kingdoms rising and falling between the fence and the old tree.

one of them yells something about a dragon.

and all of them see it.

I stop the car. watch for a while. and I must say, with all honesty: I cannot see it.

I used to be that kid. all my childhood was lived in two worlds at once.

I’ve been turning on and off, constantly switching between the worlds, where in one I’m conquering the world and in the other some charlot is screaming at me for “not paying attention.”

but hold on. when did that happen?

since when did wandering in the clouds suddenly become not paying attention?

you see... the modern world is designed to systematically strip you from the most potent force at your disposal.

the moment you turned 7, the demolition began. parents telling you to stop making things up. school grading you on how still you can sit and how well you can repeat, never on what you can create. then work finishes the job: forty years of spreadsheets, deadlines and meetings, until the man who once commanded fleets can’t hold a single image in his head for ten seconds without reaching for his phone.

those who succeed in this world - the ones who break through the impossible, create inventions and art that outlives them, are exactly the ones who managed to hold on to their childhood dreams in a world running on logic and rationality.

despite the fact that it tends to be dismissed the moment we stop being kids, imagination is not some childish toy. it’s, quite literally, the source of our lives.

if you think about it, everything that ever existed started as a simple mental construct in someone’s imagination.

the chair you sit on, the phone in your hand, the room around you, the city it stands in.

imagination is the invisible mechanism through which the mental becomes material. it is this one thing that gives life to ideas and form to the formless.

every ancient tradition agreed that imagination is the major creative force of the universe.

the hermeticists sealed it into their first principle: “the all is mind; the universe is mental.”

the renaissance magi called imagination the divine organ in man, a sun burning inside him.

the kabbalists taught that man was made in the image of the imaginer, carrying the same creative faculty in miniature.

all of the major religious scriptures describe creation itself as an act of conception: the world imagined before it was spoken into form.

even god had to use imagination before he gave the world its shape. let that sink in.

and what the ancients believed, science can today verify empirically.

modern neuroscience today proves:

the subconscious cannot properly distinguish between reality and imagination.

if your imagination is clear and vivid enough, sometimes just thinking about an event is as big of an impression for the subconscious mind as the real event itself.

and so, what does it mean for you?

if you train your imagination for long enough...

you can quite literally hack your brain into believing that your desired reality has already happened.

every scene you enter vividly enough, every state you generate and hold, gets recorded by the deeper mind as experience. not fantasy. experience. and once the subconscious genuinely accepts it as true, it begins to operate on the physical plane from that assumption.

you can blur the line between past and future and start living from the end instead of toward it.

but hold on... this is just the beginning.

what you are about to read is the second chapter of the CIPHER PROTOCOLS.

the last time we descended into your unconscious and installed your major life purpose.

tonight we’re going to unlock the most potent force at your disposal and begin bringing it to life.

out of thousands of years of esoteric studies, distilled into a formula to resurrect and weaponize the faculty the world buried in you.

inside you’ll find:

• some of the most guarded ancient scriptures decoded and the deep neuroscience behind why imagination shapes reality

• case studies of the greatest minds in history who deliberately used their imagination to build what the world called impossible

• the exact techniques to gradually expand your imagination and turn it into your most powerful instrument

$12/mo, less than a mediocre lunch for something that can genuinely change your life.

see you on the other side.

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auschwitz. 1944.

viktor frankl, a distinguished psychiatrist and neurologist from vienna, has lost everything.

his wife. his parents. his life’s work. over 400 pages of psychological research he had carried on his person when they loaded him onto the train, stripped from him on arrival and thrown into a pile with everything else that had belonged to him until that morning.

a respected doctor and thinker is suddenly a number. 119104.

a striped uniform doing forced labor in conditions designed to break the human spirit before they broke the body.

slowly, he begins to adjust to a new reality.

in the stolen moments between roll calls and labor details, frankl starts reconstructing his manuscript. argument by argument. chapter by chapter. on scraps of paper when he can find them, in his head when he cannot.

he is writing a book about the human search for meaning inside the most meaningless place that ever existed.

he watches the men around him die daily.

the causes varied: cold. starvation. disease. exhaustion. violence. over 1.1 million people died within the walls of auschwitz. the labor camps alone consumed men like fuel.

observing all of it, frankl notices a pattern beneath it.

before a man dies physically, he dies mentally.

he could see it in their eyes days before it happened. a specific emptiness. a moment when the last internal flame goes out and the man stops fighting not because the conditions have worsened but because he can no longer answer one simple question: why am i enduring this?

once that question had no answer, death followed quickly. sometimes within hours.

and he notices the inverse.

the men who survive the longest are not the strongest physically. they are the ones who have something waiting for them. a child to return to. a person they cannot abandon. a piece of work that remains unfinished.

these are sometimes the men who survive conditions that seem physically unbearable. surviving on less food, less sleep, more brutal treatment than men twice their size who had nothing pulling them forward.

frankl was one of these men.

he made it out. finished the manuscript. published it in 1946.

it sold over 16 million copies and became one of the most influential books of the 20th century.

in 1937, napoleon hill published one of the most iconic books ever written: think and grow rich.

the result of over 20 years of research and personal interviews with more than 500 of the wealthiest and most successful men on the planet.

his single most important finding after two decades of study:

the thing that separated every one of them from everyone else was not talent. not intelligence. not even hard work.

it was having one definite chief aim and formulating their entire life around it.

every successful person in history found their north star early on and never let go of it. one major purpose. one life’s work. one calling so complete it stopped feeling like a goal or ambition and started feeling like destiny.

and yet. with all the information available to us. with hill’s book having sold over 100 million copies. studies show that over 80% of people still have no clear sense of direction whatsoever.

purpose for a man is like a rudder for a ship.

without it, you drift. from one job to the next. from one person’s expectations to the next

if you are not living by your own design, you are living by someone else’s design. and guess what’s there planned for you? not much.

there is nothing as urgent and as important to anyone who desires success on any level as developing a clear, definite sense of direction and becoming completely addicted to accomplishing it.

not a goal. not a plan.

a burning purpose. an obsessive purpose that bleeds into every waking hour of your life and consumes the ones you should be sleeping through.

your thoughts circulate around it mid-conversation. mid-walk. mid-shower.

you work on it and wake up in the middle of the night with a new angle, a new idea, a new move you hadn’t considered.

and if that is still not happening to you, there should be nothing else occupying your mind right now than finding it.

what you are about to read is the first part of the CIPHER PROTOCOLS.

out of years of research and exploration, i built my personal framework to engineer a mind that is fully aligned with its true purpose.

derived from every field of esoteric study: psychology, neuroscience, metaphysics, uncensored history, ancient philosophy, and many more, we will go everywhere worth looking.

from decoding esoteric lines of the holy scriptures, to analyzing declassified cia archives about mind manipulation from the 60s, to descending into the deepest layers of the greatest minds in history. all to extract one thing: the exact mechanics through which your mind creates reality.

this piece is the foundation. every protocol that follows will be built on top of this one.

today, we’ll descend into the darkest corners of your own unconscious, integrate your deepest drives with your conscious will, and once it’s clear: you’ll receive a formula to permanently install it into the architecture of your mind.

throughout the weeks ahead, this becomes a system. one protocol building on the last, until what you’re left with is not a collection of ideas but an entirely rebuilt operating framework for how your mind filters reality.

but beware: this is not the type of content you skim on a commute or read between notifications.

give it everything or don’t give it anything.

because this series alone, applied fully and consistently over its entire course, can change the direction of your life by 180 degrees.

and here is the only secret you need to know going in:

if you apply every teaching i lay out here. fully. without shortcuts.

you cannot fail.

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april 10, 1953.

allen dulles, the newly appointed director of the central intelligence agency, stands before an audience of princeton alumni and gives one of the most chilling speeches in history.

“the human mind is the most delicate of all instruments. it is so finely adjusted, so susceptible to the impact of outside influences that it is proving a malleable tool in the hands of sinister men.”

everyone in that room knew what he was referring to…

the war in korea has just ended and american prisoners have been returning home as entirely different people.

men who had gone in as soldiers were coming back reciting communist propaganda with the conviction of true believers.

colonel frank schwable and 35 other captured air force personnel had publicly confessed to crimes of germ warfare they never committed. 21 american soldiers had refused repatriation entirely. they chose to stay in communist china.

the american public was terrified. nobody knew exactly what was being done to these men. only that something was being done. something that reached inside a human being and rewrote what was there.

dulles continued:

“the soviets are now using brain perversion techniques as one of their main weapons in prosecuting the cold war. some of these techniques are so subtle and so abhorrent to our way of life that we have recoiled from facing up to them.”

the target of this brain warfare, he said, was the mind of the individual. its aim: “to condition the mind so that it no longer reacts on a free will or rational basis but responds to impulses implanted from outside.”

the brain, he said, becomes “something like a phonograph playing a disc put on its spindle by an outside genius over which it had no control.”

the new era of warfare has just begun. one that had nothing to do with bombs or bullets. the war fought entirely in the human mind itself.

“we in the west are somewhat handicapped in brain warfare.” the soviets were ahead, he admitted.

the reports coming into the public eye confirmed it all. soviet researchers had been experimenting with hypnosis combined with drugs since the 1930s. the kgb maintained classified facilities studying the manipulation of memory, belief and behavior. declassified project artichoke documents from 1952 described the successful use of narco-hypnotic interrogation on russian agents. subjects placed into chemically induced trance states. interviewed for over an hour. they remembered nothing. a cia researcher named dr. louis jolyon west had documented that through the right combination of hypnotic suggestion and chemical enhancement, true memories could be replaced with false ones. subjects recalled fictional events with complete conviction.

the soviets, it appeared, had found the key to the human mind.

dulles condemned it all. loudly. publicly. as abhorrent. as a violation of everything the free world stood for.

and there wouldn’t be anything strange about that if that very same man, in that very same week, hadn’t already given the green light to do the exact thing he was standing before all these people condemning.

just three days after the speech, allen dulles signed the authorization for a covert research program that would become the most controversial intelligence operations ever conducted.

its codename was MKUltra.

the manhattan project of the mind had begun.

i spent the last few days buried in the declassified documents from the experiments conducted by the CIA in the 1950s and 1960s.

what i found was terrifying.

subjects placed into chemically induced trance states and interviewed for over an hour with no memory of it afterward. true memories surgically replaced with false ones through hypnotic suggestion. men and women who woke up genuinely believing things that had been planted inside them while they slept.

hypnosis, in its most extreme forms, can take a person’s entire sense of reality and rebuild it from scratch. it can erase a memory. install a belief. make a man confess to crimes he never committed and feel genuine remorse about them.

but you don’t have to be drugged with LSD or subjected to looped audio in a coma to see the mechanics of it at work.

take the easiest form of hypnosis we’re all familiar with: the placebo effect.

patients who received fake knee surgeries, incisions made but nothing repaired, healed almost as well as patients who received the real procedure. the body repaired itself in response to the belief that it had been repaired.

30 to 40 percent of patients experience significant relief from placebos alone. not from sugar pills. from the expectation of healing, which the brain converts into actual physiological change.

and then there is the nocebo effect. the placebo’s dark mirror.

tell someone a harmless saline injection will cause pain. they feel pain. tell a patient their medication has certain side effects. they develop those side effects from the placebo. the negative suggestion becomes the negative reality.

your brain is already running a continuous self-hypnosis program every single day. every repeated thought, every belief about yourself you’ve accumulated over years, every story you tell about who you are and what you’re capable of, is being processed by your subconscious and converted into your experienced reality. most people’s program was written by default. by other people. by past experiences. by accumulated suggestion they never consciously agreed to.

self-hypnosis is simply taking authorship of that program.

what the ancients believed thousands of years ago, modern neuroscience today confirms:

hypnosis is a real, measurable physiological state. one that can be deliberately induced. and one that, in the right hands, produces results that look indistinguishable from the impossible.

what you began reading is not another wellness article about positive thinking. it is a mental playbook.

inside you will find:

• the complete neuroscience that makes self-hypnosis not just possible but inevitable once you understand the mechanism.

• specific techniques drawn directly from the cia’s own research, decoded and inverted for your own use.

• the exact daily practice you can use to hypnotize yourself into a state where achieving your own purpose becomes the only available outcome.

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it’s 3:12 in the morning.

it was supposed to be a short session. just a quick working block, doing what needs to be done before the end of the day.

but here we are… grafting in my lab wired to the teeth. the night caught me again.

i look outside my window: it’s beginning to get light already. the beauty of early summer.

my brain tells me: go to sleep.

my heart: pull out an all nighter and reach the deepest flow state of the week.

anyways. i wouldn’t even fall asleep. no, not tonight.

but before i go any further, i honestly need a break. no human mind can sustain more than 8 hours of nonstop focus. even that artificially extended by god knows how much caffeine.

i close the laptop. step outside.

walking through the grasslands surrounding my home in that half-dark, somewhere between night and morning, my mind begins to wonder.

who am i really?

an egocentric megalomaniac, drunk on his own potential, convinced of his own grandeur and superiority over everyone else?

a self-taught philosopher, deeply curious about everything, disappearing down the rabbit holes at 3am to understand how reality actually works?

a gym demon finding peace in physical pain and the clanking sound of iron at the death of the night?

a master manipulator who understood human nature on a deeper level and immorally uses it to achieve his own ends without losing a second of sleep over it?

a bohemian creator with a romantic spirit, waking up on early mornings to write prose listening to jazz and smoke cigarettes?

what about all of the above…. everything mixed into one person?

damn. i honestly need to get nerfed.

in a world full of sleepwalkers, dragging themselves from one place to another, desperately searching for their place in this world, i feel like a comet cutting through the dark.

i know what i want. and i deliberately constructed an identity fully capable of creating what i am DESTINED to create.

most people spend their entire lifetimes waiting to become someone. never realizing the becoming is a choice they could have made at any moment.

this whole game is not about DOING, but BEING.

you have to get to a point where you’re no longer chasing your dreams. you are your dream. you are everything you would ever want yourself to be. Because then.. Everything else follows.

the sun went fully up by now.

another day. another chance to become someone.

let’s craft your desired identity.

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PROTOCOL I: CRAFT THE IDEAL

the beauty of human nature is that we are all born limitless.

meaning: our imagination knows no boundaries. the limitations of the physical world, the rules, the ceilings, the opinions of others, none of them apply inside your own mind. in there you are free to be anyone.

just like da vinci sketched out the ideal man, you can sketch out the ideal version of yourself. the version that is everything you are not yet. the version that is free in all the ways you currently are not. the version that is smart, capable, fully alive, fully realized.

and funnily enough, this is where everything starts.

a fantasy.

you simply begin by fantasizing about who that person is. and in doing so you build the foundation that everything else gets built on top of.

it starts naturally. intuitively. you have always had inclinations toward certain things. certain figures. certain qualities that made something in you lean forward.

you always loved music or other kinds of art. so you imagine yourself with the effortless mastery of miles davis, playing without thinking, feeling without forcing.

you play football? you can imagine yourself as prime neymar on the pitch. dribbling through 5 defenders and scoring an absolute benger into the top corner with utmost joy from playing.

you’re drawn to power and strategy? you see yourself as a young napoleon, reading campaigns in a cold room, already 5 steps ahead of everyone else.

you find a quality in someone that makes you feel something. and you take it. you file it. you add it to the picture.

and when you mix it all together, when you take all your ideals and cook them in the same pot, what comes out is the ideal YOU. not a copy of anyone. a synthesis. something entirely new that could only have come from the specific combination of everything you already are and everything you have ever admired.

ironically, most people suppress this instinct. but there is no benefit in suppressing your natural tendencies. none whatsoever.

it is far better to feed on them. to take them seriously. to follow them all the way down until every last drop soaks into the bones of who you are becoming.

that’s how it all starts.

with a picture.

build a picture of yourself. write it out. make it specific. make it vivid. store it somewhere you will see it. somewhere you will return to it.

PROTOCOL II: SWITCH THE LENS

once you have the ideal you, what you want to do is start looking at life through their lens.

detach from your current personality as much as possible while stepping into theirs.

how do you do it?

well… you become an actor.

i’m not asking you to become that person. not yet. that would be way too much to ask straight away.

i’m just asking you to play the part.

put the mask on for a second and run with it.

with every significant situation you encounter, you ask yourself one question.

what would that version of me do right now?

what would they say. how would they carry themselves. how would they react.

you deliberately place yourself in their position. and then you act as if.

now sometimes you are still the old you. naturally wrestling with it.

you start doing something and midway through you realize it’s coming from the old you. it’s normal.

but once you become more aware of your patterns and deliberately play your part thousands of times, across thousands of moments big and small, the old version becomes quieter and quieter.

your entire thinking pattern begins to adjust into the role you are acting out.

you think like them. feel like them. act like them.

and one day you realize you are no longer acting.

you just are.

PROTOCOL III: BUILD EMOTIONAL CONVICTION

with that being said, acting alone won’t sustain for long if you are not emotionally convinced that what you are doing is right.

your subconscious mind doesn’t care about your intentions. it runs the show. and it will override your conscious efforts every single time if the two are not aligned.

so instead of fighting against your old subconscious patterns, what you want to do is rewrite them.

you want to literally trick your subconscious into believing you are already there.

the language of the subconscious is feeling. not words. not logic. not willpower.

feeling.

it doesn’t register what you say you are. it registers what you feel you are.

one of the most powerful ways to do this is by building pictures in your mind. vivid, specific, emotionally loaded pictures of the ideal you already living the life.

for me those are small remnants of the future i see ahead.

the moment of buying a one way ticket with my brother to the end of the world.

sitting at a moroccan cafe early in the morning, sipping double espresso and writing in a deep flow state.

christmas eve in my future home with my whole family gathered there.

anything that your mind can conceive and imagine.

you simply step outside of the current timeline, step into the future, and feel what that version of you feels.

and as you do it for long enough, something strange happens.

the future begins to feel like memory.

past and future mingle together.

reality and possibility become one.

quantum leap in its purest form. something happens on the other plane. gets stored in the universal database, and simply waits for you to materialize it.

cipher ON

let me be real with you…

everything you just read is the surface level.

if you want to go deeper into the hidden mechanics of achievement, my premium datasets is where i go all the way down.

complete frameworks, specific techniques, in depth psychological autopsies of the greatest minds in history.

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since i can remember, i’ve always been an angry kid.

not quietly angry. not sulking angry. furiously angry. physically, mentally, uncontrollably angry.

all my childhood i was like a ticking bomb capable of exploding at any moment.

i used to argue about everything. from the way dinner was served through the way someone looked at me across the room all the way to the smallest, most insignificant thing you could imagine.

and if anything went not the way i wanted, i would resist. i would scream. i would fight.

and at the moments of some complete desperation, i would literally hit my head against the wall.

it got to the point where my mother bought me a special helmet not to hurt myself.

when i was 8 years old i hit my cousin straight in the face because he said ronaldo is better while I liked messi.

i got into school fights easily. disrespected teachers. ran out of home and went missing for a couple of days.

everyone who knew me back then probably thought i was insane.

they thought i would end up in jail. in the streets. in the best case scenario, nowhere.

a couple years forward and i still have this innate, deep, sometimes overpowering anger running through my veins.

spoiler: i’m nowhere near jail or homelessness.

more than that. with all the conviction in the world, i can say: anger is my superpower now.

the very thing that nearly destroyed me as a kid is my main driving factor as an adult.

long story short: i learned to weaponize it.

whenever i feel this sudden surge of anger rising, i know exactly how to redirect every drop of that raw, unprocessed force into my work.

and now i’m going to teach you how to do it.

it’s early morning in my lab as i’m writing this.

it was supposed to be another calm start of the day. jazz on low volume. some sunshine. double espresso going cold on the desk.

a few minutes ago i just got off a call that threw me completely off balance. someone i trusted dropped the ball on something i specifically asked them not to drop the ball on.

for fuck sake.

should I let it ruin my day? nah. i got a better idea.

let’s get into it.

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THE PSYCHOLOGY OF ANGER

the chances are you have a completely and fundamentally mistaken perception of anger and how it should be dealt with.

and honestly, i don’t blame you.

we live in a society where every genuine, raw, inconvenient feeling is being repressed and medicated and therapized into something more manageable. more palatable. more comfortable for everyone around you.

most people treat anger as a problem to be solved. something to be calmed down, breathed through, eliminated completely. the goal, as most people understand it, is to feel less of it.

but here is what nobody tells you.

anger doesn’t disappear when you suppress it.

it doesn’t dissolve. it doesn’t evaporate. it gets pushed down, stored deep in the body and the memory, compressed under the weight of everything you piled on top of it.

and later… it comes back.

always. with double the force. in forms you don’t recognize until the damage is already done.

one person drinks until the feeling is numb enough to ignore. wakes up the next morning and the anger is still there, now wrapped in shame.

another picks a fight with a stranger on the street. puts the energy somewhere external. somewhere it can bleed out. somewhere it has nothing to do with what actually caused it.

another goes completely silent. shuts down. withdraws. lets the anger calcify into something cold and permanent that quietly poisons every relationship it touches.

yet what each and every one of these people are doing is the same thing.

they are trying to make the energy go somewhere other than where it actually needs to go.

they are running from a force that was never meant to be run from.

it was meant to be used.

THE ART OF TRANSMUTATION

to give you a better picture of what i actually mean, let me tell you a story.

at the beginning of high school i started training boxing. i was decent. not exceptional. not the most experienced guy in the gym. but i held my own i’d say.

one afternoon i got a call that stopped me cold.

someone especially close to me had given in to addiction again.

i don’t need to explain what that feels like to anyone who has been there. the specific helplessness of it. the anger that has nowhere rational to go because the person you’re furious at is also the person you love and the person who is suffering and the person you cannot fix no matter how much you want to.

it felt like my whole world collapsed in that moment.

normally i would have probably organized the biggest drama of my life. but that particular morning, a few hours earlier, i had read something that planted a seed i didn’t know was there yet.

i remember reading think and grow rich by napoleon hill. specifically a chapter about energy transmutation. the idea that energy cannot be destroyed. only transformed. and when you’re suddenly feeling that buzz, whether it’s anger or any other raw emotion, this is when you are the most powerful.

by sheer luck, that same afternoon there were sparring sessions at the gym.

i packed my gear. walked straight in. said nothing to anyone.

my trainer always liked to match me against guys far better than me. it was his way of forcing growth. i usually ended up eating combinations i didn’t see coming and going home humbled.

that day something was different.

man, i was buzzing. sharper than i had ever been. more explosive. more focused than i knew i was capable of being. i felt like something had been unlocked that normally stayed behind a door.

i beat the guy who was supposed to beat me. badly.

and it didn’t end there.

coming home that evening i remembered, god knows how i had forgotten, that i had the most important exam of the year the following morning. the one that would determine whether i passed or not.

still carrying that energy, that strange, electric, transmuted force that had nowhere else to go, i pulled an all nighter. reached the deepest flow state i had ever been in. wrote the exam the next morning and passed it cleanly.

now i can say: that was the day that changed the course of the rest of my life.

most people go through their entire existence without ever experiencing how much raw, unprocessed force they actually carry inside them.

studies show that the average human can go as high as only 40% of their actual capacity. not because they lack talent. not because they lack intelligence. because they never found the key that unlocks the other 60%.

those who reach the highest levels don’t do it by sheer willpower alone. they do it by unlocking something way underneath it. something primal. something that was forged in the darkest moments of their lives and never fully extinguished.

and if you look at the lives of the greatest builders in history, they all seem to share one particular thread.

somewhere along the way, they were broken by something.

a wound. a moment of complete powerlessness that left a mark so deep it never fully healed.

rockefeller, abandoned by a con artist father, watching his family struggle with nothing. that specific helplessness becoming the fuel behind the most obsessive, precise, relentless business mind in american history.

napoleon, the corsican outsider, mocked by french classmates for his accent and his poverty. the rage of the excluded becoming the engine of a military campaign that rewrote the map of europe.

ali, stripped of everything he had earned, publicly humiliated, three years of his prime taken from him by a government that called him a criminal for refusing to go to war. coming back more dangerous, more focused, more alive than anyone who had never lost anything could ever be.

they didn’t go to a psychologist to overcome the wound.

they fed on it. day by day.

they took that raw, unprocessed energy that the pain produced and aimed it at something so large it could absorb all of it and still ask for more.

the dust from their bones is long gone. and the world is still feeling the impact of their anger.

you have the same raw material.

the only question is what you’re doing with it.

cipher ON.

let me be real with you…

everything you just read is the surface level.

if you want to go deeper into the hidden mechanics of achievement, my premium datasets is where i go all the way down.

complete frameworks, specific techniques, in depth psychological autopsies of the greatest minds in history.

check out on your own:

the full archive → premium datasets

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