Novel & Cerita Motivation Manifesto

“If you want to win today, you’ve gotta start the morning right.” I groaned, squirming, but the warmth of his body and that infuriating grin made my resolve melt faster than I wanted. “Start the morning right?” I repeated, trying to sound stern. “You mean… by squishing me like a pancake?” “Exactly,” he whispered, his nose brushing against my hair. “You need motivation, focus, and energy for the final race. Remember, you said that yesterday.” I rolled my eyes, though my cheeks were burning. “You’re ridiculous.”

"No. The outcome is suffering people getting help. That's what you want. What Marcus wanted doesn't matter anymore. He's dead. You're alive. You get to define what your work means." I wanted to believe him. Wanted to think motivation mattered more than outcome. But I also saw the truth in Marcus's letter. I was creating exactly what he described. Management systems. Control training. Enhanced human administration. That night I made a decision. I wrote a public statement. Posted it on the foundation website. Sent it to everyone we'd helped. *To everyone connected to the foundation:* *I received a letter from Marcus Chen. Written before his death. It claims everything I've built is Phase Five

“ Really? ” “ Yeah. I read something on, inner motivation and outer motivation. As a writer, I sometimes get motivated to write better by what people think of my book. But other times, I get motivated by what I myself think of my book. Overtime I have come to realize that the outer motivation wears off with time. But the inner never will. It'd be there even when the sky gets darker and there's completely no reason to keep on going. ” “ Um. ” “ This reminds me of the book on identity, I read in an article recently. ”

“Why did you return? Did you forget something?” “Yes. You. You have a point. Every man needs a reward to be motivated.” “That’s what I’ve been telling you.” “I will not hold back. I’m gonna claim that reward now.” I opened my arms and smiled though my heart was racing. “As you should. Come here, Luther.”

A long groan filtered from my mouth. That's the freaking ticket. Just before my muscles spasmed from the tension, I let them go. Sank back into the mattress as my morning affirmations settled in my mind like the lifeline they truly were. Today is my bitch. I will make it call me Mistress Nik. Today, I will do my best. Nothing less than my best will be accepted. Today, I will rely only on myself. Others can't be trusted for too long. Today, I will not take advantage of the awesome life I've been given.

For the love of God, say something, old man! "I'd be remiss if I didn't tell you I'm disappointed but, Moby, you're cheating yourself more than you're cheating those who love you. Why go to the lengths to create fake journals?" "I wish I could tell you I have some great reason behind it, or justify it logically, but the fact is I can't. I promise myself every day I'm going to change things. I have every intention of doing the work, but as soon as I get ready to, I can't find the motivation."

“They’re punishing you for being human. You don’t deserve this. You’ve worked your butt off to maintain this streak—, the Decathlon—if you don’t participate, then that whole streak will be broken.” I finally looked at him, and my eyes welled up. I hadn’t thought about that. I refused to think about it because the thought was too painful. It was hurtful to contemplate losing something that was tied to my core motivation. I promised my mum, before she… before she left, that I was going to win as many titles as possible. I had really, fiercely wanted to deliver on that promise. “I guess life is unpredictable,” I said, trying to be philosophical, managing a dry shrug. And it really is, because I

For the first time, I felt like I was writing my own story— not just playing a role in the Baumann family drama. I don’t know if Pietra will ever find out about that call. And honestly, I didn’t do it for her. I did it for myself. For the man I want to become. For the father, my child will come to know. I smiled faintly. For the first time in a long while, I felt… free.

and I had no clue in mind. The scandals tainting the company's reputation were another thing I dared not think about. I'd go crazy if I did. Standing up from the couch where I had been sitting all this while, I wandered over to the art design hung in the right corner of the living room. It read, “Never give up”—a motivation I had carried in my heart since the beginning of my struggles for a better life. I placed my slender fingers on the inscription, one letter at a time, as my heart surged anew. “No, my years of struggle can't go down the drain. I must fight with every fibre of my being,” I assured myself boldly, pressing a finger to my heart as my words rekindled my confidence.

She sighed. "Your passion and resilience carved out the name for you," I began, giving motivational talks like a therapist. "Give it one more strike, let's see how far the flames can go." I gave her the push she needed.