Opening — The Paradox

If it were possible to put my life and visions into a normal business plan, raising money would be the easiest thing in the world.

On paper, it would look like every investor’s dream: almost no fixed costs, absurdly high creative output, a "market" that includes every human being alive, and a founder whose whole life is organized around one thing — serving life itself. If that’s not an unfair advantage, I don’t know what is.

And yet: I’m struggling to raise a few thousand euros.

That’s the paradox this text is about.

The very qualities that make this work structurally superior — the lack of selfishness, the orientation toward service, the refusal to force outcomes — are exactly what make it almost impossible to fund inside the current money system. I am, in a very literal sense, too trustworthy to be trusted by a worldview that has learned to put its faith in selfishness.

So this is not a business plan in the usual sense. It’s an attempt to translate a different order of reality into a format that was designed for something else entirely — and to show why the translation necessarily breaks the frame.

My Life = A Start‑Up

You could easily look at my life through the lens of a start‑up: a constant stream of innovative ideas and visions, a level of passion and dedication that borders on obsession, and the willingness to take risks and walk paths that have no precedent. In the most conventional sense, I already embody what early‑stage founders are praised for.

Ideas don’t arrive gently; they land in clusters, often faster than I can write them down. The whole thing has the energy of a garage‑phase start‑up: high‑volatility, zero guarantees, everything at stake — and yet undeniably alive.

The dedication is total. Not the kind that’s driven by profit or external reward, but the kind that comes from knowing, without doubt, that this is what my life is for. Investors call it “founder obsession.” For me it’s simply devotion, the willingness to give everything without ever forcing.

And then there’s the risk — the real, personal kind. Financial instability, social misunderstanding, the willingness to lose reputation, comfort, predictability, even relationships, in order to stay aligned with truth. It’s the same risk profile investors admire in founders, just anchored in a different worldview.

It also carries the early‑stage loneliness: the moments when clarity is high but external validation is non‑existent; when you know exactly what wants to be built, but no one else can fully see it yet. This is the garage moment — except the garage is my life itself.

So when I now shift into investor‑language, it’s not artificial. I’m not pretending. I’m simply translating what is already happening into a format the old world can recognize.

And once you translate it… the mechanics begin to reveal themselves.

Run My Numbers…

When you translate my life and work into the logic of the financial system, a few structural mechanics emerge immediately — and they paint a picture that should, by all conventional reasoning, be irresistible.

Ultra‑low burn

I live with almost no fixed costs. A few hundred euros a month cover my basic needs. No office. No staff. No overhead. Over five to ten years, this shifts the probability landscape dramatically.

Absurd input–output ratio

Mastery, refinement, and JatFK have compressed time in ways that compound: tasks that once took five hours now take thirty minutes; thirty‑minute tasks now take five. This is not incremental improvement — it’s exponential leverage.

Devotion workforce

People join not through incentives but through resonance. High‑talent contributions emerge organically and at near‑zero structural cost. In a world obsessed with payroll, this alone changes the game.

An infinite "market"

The core “product” is alignment with life — truth, clarity, togetherness. The demand for coherence is universal. There is no ceiling to its expression.

A concrete example: The Online‑Course Universe

Even one single expression of this work — the Online‑Course Universe — could, after a few years, sustainably support well over a hundred people living with my simple lifestyle. And that’s before we even begin to speak of the synergy effects with all the other projects that will naturally emerge.

For the actual numbers, scenarios, and detailed mechanics, see the full Business Plan.

On numbers alone, this should be a no‑brainer. Lower risk, higher upside, a founder with an unreasonable reliability profile, and a model built for compounding synergies.

So why isn’t it?

Because the moment you ask how these numbers work, the worldview behind our money system begins to crack.

Why the System Says No

On numbers alone, the decision should be obvious. But the rejection I meet is not about numbers — it’s about worldview. The system isn’t evaluating my ideas; it is defending the assumptions it’s built on.

Modern finance rests on a quiet but absolute belief: that humans are fundamentally selfish. It assumes people will force outcomes, push for maximization, and sacrifice whatever is needed to ensure repayment. This is not seen as a flaw — it is the foundation of trust. And it grows from the same soil as the Story of Separation: the narrative that we are isolated units, competing for limited resources, each responsible only for our own gain.

And here lies the paradox. The very thing that makes my work structurally superior — the lack of selfishness, the orientation toward service, the refusal to force — makes me untrustworthy inside that worldview. I’m not considered risky because my numbers are weak. I’m considered risky because my intention is different.

To fund me, an institution would have to acknowledge that its core assumptions — scarcity, control, calculability, individualism — are not universally true. That devotion can outperform pressure. That cooperation can out‑leverage competition. That money can be a side effect rather than a goal. Accepting this wouldn’t just challenge a model — it would destabilize the logic the system stands on.

So the "no" I encounter is not an analysis. It’s a reflex. A defense of a worldview that feels threatened the moment something works too well without relying on its assumptions.

Which brings us to something deeper: this isn’t about finance. It’s about the story of reality we operate from — and what happens when a lived example quietly contradicts it.

4. The (Only) Way Out

We all feel that the current system is not healthy. You can sense it in the air — the exhaustion, the pressure, the quiet knowing that something essential isn’t working anymore. But systems don’t transform overnight. They loosen, crack, resist, collapse, and renew over long, slow, often painful arcs.

And paradoxically, that makes it hardest for the people who are closest to what wants to come next. The system reacts to them with the most force. It behaves almost like an organism defending itself. It fights what could naturally replace it.

Because the worldview it’s built on — scarcity, selfishness, control, calculability — isn’t just a theory. It’s written into its DNA. If an institution acknowledged the logic of my business plan, it would have to acknowledge its own absurdity. Its own irrelevance. Its own expiration date. So it can’t. Not structurally. Not psychologically.

But here is the crucial thing: this worldview is not written in people’s DNA.

Even if someone has internalized the old story, even if they’ve attached identity to it — it’s still only a story. Our nature is different. People can feel truth long before they can justify it. They can sense resonance even when the spreadsheets say nothing. They can move from intuition, alignment, courage.

Institutions cannot. But individuals can.

And that is where a real pathway opens — not through the system shifting first, but through the few who can already sense the new story and dare act as a bridge.

5. Your Choice — The Leap Only Individuals Can Make

What's wonderful is that people can feel truth long before they can articulate it. They can sense resonance long before anything is proven. They can act from courage rather than conditioning, from alignment rather than fear.

And if you’ve read until here, then I am — quite directly — speaking to you.

Not as an institution. Not as an investor. As one human being who can feel what is true in another. The system itself cannot move first — but individuals can.

If something in you recognizes this work, even faintly, then you might be one of the few who can serve as a bridge — not out of obligation, but because you can feel the future breathing through the present moment.

If you want to support and know exactly how: Click Here
If you feel called and want to "do something about it", but have no idea what exactly: Click here

Change rarely begins with systems. It begins with individuals who can already sense the new story — and dare to move from it.