They

They will think you're crazy. As stated before, this is good. Better to be bat-shit motherfuckin' insane than be on the same page with all of the other rats in the maze bumping their heads against the walls of The Matrix.

They will say you're too this or too that. Too cocky. Too greedy. Too intense. Too aggressive. Too loud. Too ambitious. Other stuff, too.

They will take shots at your ego. This is their specialty. Constant streams of poisonous negative energy. Like a fool, you will at first sit there and take this. However, Law 10 may rank much higher in importance than some of the other laws. After all, Robert Greene tells us that his favorite law – or the law most applicable to him now – is the 48^th Law. When discussing the assumption of formlessness, Greene delves into the classic Go versus Chess analogy. If you've been able to keep up with all of my Robert Greene references, then you understand (at least on a basic level), the dichotomy between eastern and western thought (particularly in regards strategy). You may also know that Greene says that applying the 48 Laws means adopting a mindset, rather than memorizing the laws by rote and attempting to rigorously apply them, one-by-one, in various specific scenarios (although, this would be an interesting experiment). Be a little more Asian in your thinking, Greene says. Throughout the centuries of human history, modern and ancient examples abound: General Giap, Musashi, The Great Kahn, Sun-Tzu.

They will rub your failures in your face. They cannot do what you do, so they tell you that you can't do it either. Your superiority offends them... too much cognitive dissonance for their human minds to handle.

They will talk behind your back. Haters love to hate. They can't help themselves. It is in their nature. Their lives are basically shit sandwiches covered in juicy fecal matter, so they like to make sure everything you do stinks, too. Get rid of friends like this. When you get a hug from someone covered in shit, you get a lot of shit all over you, too.

They will act like swine before pearls. Then, when you show up with a full piggy bank – or, rather, a bank full of full piggy banks - guess who will come oinking and boinking at your feet, like pigs in slop.

They will tell you to abandon your dreams. Sure. Why not. Be like them.

They will mock your sources of inspiration. Better to not tell them. They can't shit on your favorite artist, writer, song, book or poem if you don't let them know what you love.

They will make you regret that you ever shared your ideas and thoughts with them.

Something strange happens with normal humans in the presence of genius. They get used to it. It no longer fascinates them when they see the inner workings up close.

On Page 114 of Mind-Sword, Dr. HAHA Lung tells us a nice story: “Whether clapping leather or clearing your scabbard, hitting your target with bullet or blade requires either luck or focus. Since the former cannot be trained, it's better to trust your fortune and fate toward developing focus.

Thus, whether martial artist or portrait artist, focus is ever the key. This tale is told of an elder Pablo Picasso: Having finished his lunch, the always gracious and cavalier Picasso repays the attentiveness of a young waitress by quickly – masterfully – sketching her portrait on a handy napkin. He draws the portrait with but a single flourish of his hand, his pen never leaving the napkin.

“Humph! How long did it take you to draw that?” snickered an older-fur-wrapped woman sitting nearby.

“Thirty years, madam. A mere thirty years!” Picasso replied calmly – coldly.

So, too, when we watch the master martial artist strike quickly, flawlessly, whether with katana-sword or with karate sword-hand, we do not see the decades he may have had to devote to the practice and perfection of his stance, hand position, his draw-strike and follow-through, and, perhaps most importantly, his Mind-Sword focus, all necessary to achieve such a flawless strike. This is kami waza, literally “the technique of The Gods,” i.e., the perfect stroke.

That's how the normal people respond to greatness.  They see the stroke, not the lifetime spent practicing and perfecting the stroke.  

If you violate The Laws, and put too much trust in your“friends” by recklessly blabbing your ideas to them, and you say way more than necessary, you merely erase the mystery and grandeur of what you do. Take a good look at your friends and ask yourself how many of them truly understand what you're doing. Are they themselves doing what you're doing? Are you putting in the hours every day – your eyes unflinchingly focused on hitting the 10,000 hour mark, then 20,000, then 30,000... - getting better every day, learning new skills and/or bettering and utilizing current skills, consistently following through on your strategies with sound action? Are your friends? If not, then how can they relate? Don't break down the art and science of your plans to them. Just show up with the money and tell them you're a magician. Or a socerer. Or a god. Or The Messiah. Or the Anti-Christ. Or God The Father. Or Allah. Or Sun-Tzu reincarnated. Or the Ubermensch. Or all of the above. Just make sure you can back up all of that talk with a mighty, masterful, God-like strut (a.k.a. Perform actions aimed at grabbing some wretched fuckin' glory). You only get to do that after you decisively, emphatically, and irrefutably win through action.

They will say “money isn't everything.” And yet, they wake up early to go to their jobs. They commute in traffic, on buses and trains to go to their jobs. They acquiescently report to their “bosses” (an ugly notion that I could never submit myself to) and work with annoying, moronic co-workers. They do this all day, and then spend more time commuting home in traffic, on buses and trains. The spend most – nearly all – of their waking hours... slaving away for this thing that “isn't everything.”

If money doesn't buy happiness... then why winners on game shows like these people so happy?

They will encourage you to embrace a mediocre, meaningless, mundane existence.

They will try to put your hope and self-esteem in a blender.

They will not support you during your darkest hours. But maybe these words will. If you've read the words on this page, you know who I am, even though you might not even know my name. You've seen how my body looks. My physique was created through the intelligent exploitation of my great genetics. It was not easy. I worked hard to make myself big, because Aristotle wrote that a man cannot be beautiful if he is not big. My physique was created through dedication, by routinely doing intense workouts. Even during times of depression, I forced myself to – at the very least – do pushups, dips and pullups.

They will not answer your phone calls when you need them to the most.

They will not believe in you. But who gives a fuck? They don't even believe in themselves (and why would they... I mean, have you seen them?). Look at their mediocre lives. Only someone who doesn't believe in himself begrudgingly – or, god forbid... graciously and thankfully! - accepts the minuscule morsels and modicum of money that fate dismissively sprinkles into his hands.

They will tell you to abandon your insane dreams and “come back down to earth.” The higher we soar, the smaller we appear to those who cannot fly...

They will judge you, even though they do not truly know you.

They will say that they support you, and show different with their actions.

They will say that they see your greatness, but will not treat you like The King you are.

They will say that you think you're better than everyone. And for once, they will be right.

They won't know how to handle it when you stop swallowing fire and start spittin' it. They won't know how to handle it when you start speaking your mind. They won't know what the fuck to do when you start winnin' on their motherfuckin' asses. They won't know what hit em' when you refuse to bite your tongue for one more ever livin' second.