Because if you don’t, no one will.

But just because you think you are capable of achieving greatness, doesn’t mean people believe you can. More often than not you will be written off as someone with over inflated dreams.

I’ve told a few people that I hope to one day be an International Best Selling author. They’ve each told me they believed I can pull it off. A handful were lying. Some believed miracles actually do happen. Some only said what they said just in case I really succeeded, then they could say, I always believed he could do it.

I’ve picked out the genuine few who truly believe in me though. And I hold them close to me, as my fuel, as my pillar, as my reason.

But merely having faith in yourself takes you nowhere if it is not backed by action. All the years of education, of reading, of travelling to foreign lands, of eating strange food, enduring heartbreak, of talking to strangers. I will have to harness it all into this effort. The pieces are all there. It’s a matter of connecting the dots.

“There is no dream too big, and no dreamer too small.” That has been my life’s mantra. And I’m currently living it.

Was feeling a little down the other day and this thought popped into my head. “It would be real nice if I could get a big honking hug from Brian Murray.”

I really miss my friends in San Diego. Life always just seemed happier, more care free, less complicated back then. And that’s how I feel moments should be lived.

Unlike here in Malaysia, hugging was a natural custom that was practiced in SD. We would hug when we greeted each other, we would hug when we said good bye, we would hug to just say “Hey, how’s it goin’?” And I’m not talking about the sort of lame hugs high society gives each other with the air kisses. I’m talking about big manly hugs here, the sort that gets exchanged in battle after victory.

Upon leaving Amphibia Digital here in Malaysia, I walked around to give everyone a hug, and it was the most awkward experience. Every time I moved in to deliver a hug, I got a quizzical look, sort of a “What is this guy doing?” expression. And the embrace always ended up feeling forced, their bodies unbending, stiff like corpses gone into rigor mortis.  Compared to some of the guys I hugged on my final day, Frankenstein would probably rank as cuddly.

I’ve always felt that hugs are a bridge between two people’s souls, a connection that allowed one to share their happy moments, and diffuse their unhappy ones. Joy is always many fold sweeter when shared, if only with one person. And it is the same with the burden of sadness.  It becomes many fold lighter when shared, if only with one person. Almost like in a ‘two hands make light work’ kinda way.

I wrote the final two lines of my book today. It’s a kicker.

Unfortunately, a lot of the meat is still missing. I’m only at 9,900 words. I started out by writing the how the story began, but my mind raced ahead to write the middle, and random chapters in between. I can’t seem to pen my thoughts down fast enough. And life seems to get in the way… freelance projects to help us stay afloat, paying the bills, mopping up the mess left behind from those savage monkeys, being a husband, being a dad.

But I guess that’s life. You just have to learn how to navigate around the cones. But this is why we work. To stay afloat, to pay the bills, to buy BB Guns, to be a breadwinner to your wife and your kid.