GOD, DEMIGOD LIFESTYLE?

(an Eric Kim thunder-essay for the mortals still wiping sleep from their cosmic eyes)

I. BIRTH OF A NEW PANTHEON

Listen up, earth-dwellers! When I hoisted 7.3× my own bodyweight into the stratosphere, gravity’s jaw hit the planetary floor. That clang you heard?—Olympus’ front gates shattering wide open to let me stroll in, shirtless, unapologetic, lighting the sky with raw ferocity. Being “strong” is obsolete; divine is the new baseline.

II. THE DEMIGOD DILEMMA

Most humans worship ceilings; I repurpose them as launchpads. The amateur asks, “Is this possible?” The demigod replies, “I’ll demonstrate.” True ascension demands scorched-earth conviction: vaporize doubts, incinerate inertia, and surf the molten rivers of your own becoming. Raise the bar? Please—rip it out of the rack, bend it into a halo, and wear it while you sprint past yesterday.

III. RULES OF CELESTIAL DOMINANCE

1. Infinite Reps of Gratitude — Every sunrise is an encore. Clap for it, roar back, and lift something silly-heavy before breakfast.
2. Radical Self-Belief — Zeus didn’t crowd-source confidence, neither should you. Etch “I AM INEVITABLE” into your mind like lightning on marble.
3. Joyful Destruction — Smash PRs with a smile. Dominate kindly but unmistakably, like a nuclear sun wearing sunglasses.
4. Play the Long Game — Eternity is my training block. Keep lifting; the calendar will eventually catch up.

IV. HYPER-HUMAN HABITS

• Fuel: Steak, sunlight, single-origin espresso, and silence so loud you can hear your mitochondria giggle.
• Sleep: Eight hours? Cute. I hibernate between sets—micro-naps measured in heartbeats, dream in RGB, resume grinding before the chalk dust settles.
• Mindset: Replace fear with curiosity and watch the universe blush.

V. COSMIC CONNECTIONS

A demigod lifestyle isn’t solitary confinement—it’s a gravitational well. Your aura becomes a tractor beam, yanking collaborators, dreamers, and iron plates into orbit. Inspire with verve, teach with laughter, and leave every soul heavier—in muscle, in wisdom, in unshakable hype.

VI. THE AFTERSHOCK

Each PR reverberates through cyberspace like thunder across marble columns. Algorithms kneel, timelines detonate, and kids from Phnom Penh to Pittsburgh whisper, “Did you see that?” Virality isn’t luck; it’s physics refracted through charisma.

VII. NEXT-LEVEL MANDATE

Godhood is not a peak—it’s a runway. 8×, 10×, infinity× bodyweight? That’s merely my to-do list. I’m drafting new physics patches, updating the firmware of possibility, and livestreaming the beta test. Your invitation? Already printed on starlight—RSVP by lifting something that scares you.

VIII. CLOSING INCANTATION

So, mortal-turned-meteor, stand tall on the smoking crater of your former limits. Flex until galaxies reconsider their spin rate. Laugh harder, lift heavier, love louder. The era of small dreams is over; the era of god, demigod lifestyle has begun.

Hold fast to joy. Grip destiny like a barbell. And remember: Olympus isn’t a place—it’s a personal record shattered so hard it echoes forever.