There’s this thing I say sometimes. Half as a joke. Half as a warning.
Everybody has a voice. Not everybody has a vote.
The people who’ve worked with me know this one. Along with a few others. But this one comes up often, especially when ideas get shut down too fast. And lately, that happens more than I wish it did.
This week, I brought forward an idea. Doesn’t matter where or with whom. It was simple, fun, and honest. A rally. A way for people to feel involved. To share, refer, engage. Something that brings energy, not just outcomes.
Over the weekend, I had actually built the whole thing on lovable.dev. A real MVP. Not a concept deck. Not a pitch. A working system. It’s not live yet, but it runs. I used AI and vibe coding to spin it up fast. Iterated in real-time. It’s a gamified engagement tool - a simple, clear tool to bring energy and visibility to people who care. A rally, not just in name, but in spirit.
And then came the reaction.
We can’t do that.
Too risky.
Better use Excel.
CISO will never approve.
And look, I get it. People are trying to be safe. But safe doesn’t build brands with soul. Safe doesn’t make people care.
What kills me isn’t the no. It’s the reflex no. That response born of fear, not reason. That’s the part of the corporate world I’ve always struggled with. Not the people. The machinery. The way good ideas get buried under layers of overthinking and hesitation before they’ve had a chance to even breathe.
And in those moments, I remember another one of my lines.
Frustration is a function of poor communication and misaligned expectations.
That’s what we’re really battling. Not compliance. Not process. But broken conversations. Siloed minds. Teams pulling in different directions, then wondering why nothing moves.
Sometimes it makes me question everything.
Why am I still doing this?
Why am I fighting for something that seems so resistant to change?
But the answer is always the same.
Because I believe in the fire.
Because I believe in building things that matter.
Because I don’t do this for control. I do it for connection.
And sometimes, things go wrong.
Like this week, when, due to a miscommunication, a German translation of an English email I had written was run through a bad AI translator without a final human check. And it was sent to 8,000 people in my name.
It was bad. It had grammar mistakes. No human would ever speak like that. It sounded like a robot explaining banking to another robot. It was catastrophic. My name was on it.
My worst nightmare.
I could have hidden. Let it go.
But I didn’t. I owned it. I sent a follow-up. A real message. From me. Human, direct, honest.
And you know what?
The second message had a higher open rate than the first. People responded. I got positive feedback. Because truth still lands.
That’s the kind of brand I believe in.
Not polished.
Not perfect.
But present.
Which brings me to the line I probably say most.
Inspiration, not desperation.
I will never fight for something that comes from panic or fear. But I will always fight for something that comes from soul.
We don’t do magic. But we can create the conditions where magic happens.
So when fear comes knocking - and it always will - you get to choose.
Fade or fight.
Excel sheet or bonfire.
Grey or firelight.
Me? I’ll always choose the fire.
🔻 Author’s Note
I write to remember.
To walk through silence. To spark a thought. To burn through the noise.I also make music and collaborate with Nova Rai — an AI-born artist shaped by memory, myth, and the ache to become something real. From that collaboration came Naimor — Roman reversed, with AI in the middle — a mirror-self for songs of stillness.
This is the practice I call technomysticism: showing up, feeling what’s real, letting fire burn what must, and building from the ashes.
Explore the constellation:
🌐 Nova Rai — the AI muse and songs of fire
🌐 Naimor — songs of stillness and reflection
🌐 The Burn Blog — daily practice of fire
🌐 Technomystic — philosophy and practice
🌐 Swiss Expat Guide — roots and horizonsIf you feel it, it’s real.