“Do you want it or NOT!”

MUSIC BLARES IN THE BACKGROUND

“What?!?!”

“I said… do you want it or NOT!!!”

You look down.

Your mate, Harry, has got his right hand outstretched. In it…

A little white PILL.

You glance around:

The stage. The blaring lights. The HEAVING crowd around you.

You feel your palms start to sweat.

You don’t know what’s waiting for you on the other side. Harry’s done it - he’s crossed that bridge before. You want to know what it’s like. But it still feels scary and new to you.

You take another glance around.

Fluorescent T-Shirts. Girls on people’s shoulders. The golden orange sunset in the distance.

And now the beat is kicking in.

Screw it. You paid $250 for this ticket. And you’re only here once.

“Fuck it. Gimme the damn thing.”

Harry slams the “epiphany tablet” into your hand.

You hesitate one more time. But you’re ready.

Then… down the hatch it goes.

A big SWIG of ice-cold water (which you paid $8 for) and… yup — no going back now.

30 minutes go by.

Suddenly…

You start to feel WARM inside. You start to tingle. You start to feel PRESENT.

And now you remember EXACTLY where you are:

Ibiza (Ushuaia to be exact…)

Calvin Harris is on.

This is your first weekend “off” in MONTHS.

And, based on what you just gobbled up…

You are about to have the time of your LIFE.

You NEED it too.

You’ve been nose-to-the-grindstone recently trying to figure out that pesky “personal brand” thing.

Your mind is whirring.

Content. Offers. Authority. Brand. Engagement. Emails. Lead magnets. Offers. Offers. Offers. Banner. Tweets. Bio. Offers. Comments. Comments. God those fucking COMMENTS!!!!

It’s all just too much.

Fuck it, you say to yourself (again).

Today, you’re just going to let go, let the music wash over you and enjoy the experience of whatever “The White Island” has in store.

Music blares.

“When I met you in the summer. Took my heart beat sound. We fell in love, As the leaves turned brown”

Oooof. That feels good.

You’ve just had a messy few summer months with a girl. Really fucked with your head. And now… Calvin’s writing songs about it?!?

Weird.

It’s almost like, because you RELATE to the lyrics...

You FEEL 100x more CONNECTED to his music.

He’s talking about YOUR life.

But you don’t even get 5 seconds to think about that.

Harry’s grabbing your arm. Tugging at it.

“Come on let’s get to the FRONT!!!”

You bustle through the crowd.

“Sorry, sorryyyy!!!!” you shout as you CLATTER people out of your way.

Oh CHRIST.

You’ve just sloshed some poor girl’s drink all over her. (Vodka coke? That ain’t washing out of her pearly white dress any time soon).

OH WELL. You don’t have time to worry about that.

“I feel so close to you right NOW!!!!

Whatever the fuck was in that pill…

You’re really starting to feel ALIVE.

Centre stage.

You can literally feel the bass pounding through your chest from the speakers which are now only 20ft away from you.

You’ve even got a front-row view of the man himself.

And then you take ANOTHER glance around.

There’s people wearing shit with his name on it?!?!

Hats. T-shirts. Sunglasses.

It’s almost like they want to BE him.

To be honest…

You want to be like him too!!!!

His life. His story. His ADVENTURE.

The way he makes you FEEL as the music washes over you.

He’s telling you his story with the music he writes.

It’s fucking ELECTRIC.

And just like that…

You FLASHBACK to “personal brand” reality.

Maybe that’s a clue!!!

Your content —

Maybe it’s NOT about telling people what to do

(After all… they’ve got Google and CrapGPT for that).

Maybe, just maybe… it’s about making people FEEL a certain way.

Connection.
Emotion.
Sensation.

But… how the fuck do you do that?

God even on this “stuff”, you can’t fully switch off.

But…

Now you’re starting to get HYPER AWARE.

You glance up at the stage. At Calvin.

Crowd of thousands. Girls screaming his name. People (including you) flocking thousands of miles and shelling out hundreds of bucks just to come to a hear him play.

How did he get to this point? Was he always like this? Born with it?

You want it for yourself.

And….

Now you’re CURIOUS.

You whip out your phone.

“Calvin Harris” you punch into Google Images on your shattered iPhone screen.

“No fucking way” (you say to yourself).

You line your iPhone screen side-by-side with the man on the stage:

Surelyyyyy not…

That DWEEB cannot be the man you see on the stage today.

How the fuck did he make that TRANSFORMATION?!?!?

But that’s weird - now you’re having another epiphany…

After seeing what he was like before,
you find him even more interesting.

Maybe that’s another clue…

Does his “before” make you relate?
Does it give you HOPE?
Does it help you “buy in” to his story?

Seems like it.

And now you can’t help but ask yourself.

“I wonder how many Twitter followers this dude has!”

(After all, followers are all you’ve thought about for the past 6 months)

Sneakily… you glance around.

Harry is looking the other way. (You know if he sees you wasting yet more of your life on Twitter, he’s going to take that phone of yours and yeet it straight into the fucking abyss of the crowd around you).

Screw it - he’s not looking. You’ll be quick.

After all…

Calvin’s follower count is ALL you can think about now. You NEED to know.

You tap that little black box with that weird white “X” on it.

You start typing.

“Calv… “ (his profile has already popped up after just 4 letters - must be nice…)

“Click”.

HOLD ON!!!!

11.4 Million Followers!?!?! How the f*ck has he done that!?!

You mean to tell me…

This dude just sits around, creates music, can’t even be bothered to create a bio or a banner (after you’ve just spent WEEKS umming and ahhing over your “brand colours” and whether your bio is “correct”).

And he gets to wake up to 11.4M followers every morning! (while you’re stuck at just a few hundred!)

What the fuck!

Hanggggg onnnnn….

Another “lightbulb” moment.

You realise how he did it!

He must have an engagement strategy you don’t know about!!!!!!

This is your chance — he’s within earshot…

“Calvin! Calvin! Calvin!!!! How many comments do you send?!?! How many tweets do you write each day!!! Give me your SECRETS!!!!”

But as the words leave your (parched) lips…

The remnants of his Twitter profile, still fresh on your retina, come SCREECHING across your vision.

Now…

You’re really starting to question your own reality.

You have another BLINDING epiphany.

Maybe “commenting more” isn’t the key after all?!?

Maybe it’s not about engagement hacks.

Maybe, just maybe…

The “secret” to building your brand is simply to get better.

After all… look at Calvin.

He’s focused on only ONE thing: producing better music than everybody else.

He’s dialled into his craft.

Completely and utterly obsessed with mastery.

And he uses that to attract crowds of screaming fans (rather than going round rudely bashing on their doors trying to tell them why they should listen to his shit).

Your mind starts to RACE.

You’re starting to question everything you thought you knew about how to build a “brand”.

And suddenly another word comes screaming into your mind:

AUTHORITY!

Is this how you actually build your brand - commit, relentlessly to mastering your craft?!?

And there really are NO “hacks” or shortcuts after all?!?!? (despite what all the gooroos on Twitter have been greasing your gullet with for months)

Suddenly your eyes open just a little wider.

You think about the people YOU follow — Dan Koe. Justin Welsh. Kieran Drew.

You hark back to their tweets.

Everything they write screams…

“I know what the fuck I’m talking about and I’ve got the clarity to help you do the same.”

Clarity.

Corrrrr — a bit of that wouldn’t go amiss right now.

Your head is really starting to SPIN. What the fuck was in that pill.

You need a sit down. NOW.

Without saying a word to Harry, you stumble out from the crowd. Another drink goes flying.

You’re out of the chaos now, propped up against a rickety fence.

Fuck. That was a ride.

It suddenly dawns on you that you’re still clutching onto the bottle of water Harry handed you earlier.

You take a sip. Actually, you take big fucking GULP.

AHHHHHH!!!!!

That’s better. That “fuzzy” feeling is finally starting to wash away.

You pull your face off the COLD metal fence.

You sit up for a second.

Okay. You’re FINALLY feeling LUCID.

Your brain starts to clear. Your legs have lost that “numb” feeling. And now you start to think about what the fuck just happened - the “patterns” at play.

Your mind is back on your personal brand (shock).

But…

Now you’re seeing “brand” from a completely NEW angle.

You think back to your “Calvin epiphany”.

And you notice 3 key things:

1. His skill, which he developed through years of obsessive and relentless pursuit of mastering his craft, created authority (i.e. he focused on the ONLY thing that matters - getting good at the music he played). Then…
2. His music (i.e. content) gathered the crowd (i.e. traffic) because it struck just the right chord by… talking about all the shit his audience was going through (plus it had a FILTHY beat to make it interesting)
3. The $250 ticket to the festival (i.e. his offer) is the price you were willing to pay in order to live that experience

And now you’re starting to realise that EVERYTHING the “masses” on Twitter have been telling you to focus on, is, in fact….

Completely and utterly WRONG.

Hold on though —

Harry’s coming over.

He’s 50ft in the distance, but… you can’t help yourself.

You’ve been trying to work this shit out for MONTHS.

And now, finally, you feel like you’ve got just an ounce of clarity:

“Harry! Harry! Harry! I get it now!” you scream.

More outbursts:

“It’s not about my bio! It’s not about my banner! It’s not about how many comments I write or any of that shit everyone preaches on Tweeter!!!”

You catch your breath quickly.

But you’re so excited, you can’t help but keep spurting stuff out…

“This is a game!!!! This personal brand thing - it’s a game!!! And the only way to WIN is to get BETTER than everyone else!!!!”

You’re GASPING for breath now.

But there’s one more thing you just HAVE to get out…

“And the best part… there’s NO rules! You make them up as you go!!!!”

I mean…

Look at this 2,000+ word email talking about getting weird in Ibiza which you’ve been hooked on for the last 5 minutes… (PS. Hello fourth wall, didn’t mean to break you).

Harry pauses for a second. He locks eyes with you.

And then you see his mouth form into a wry smile.

This is what he’s wanted for you all along.

Finally, after MONTHS of floundering in the dark focusing on the “right” way to do things, you’re starting to see the light —

There are no rules.

There is no “right” way build a personal brand.

There is only you, your story, and the music you decide to create along the way.

Harry sees this shining moment of clarity in your eyes.

But he knows you’re not quite ready yet.

He stretches out his hand once more —

“Come with me” he says.

“We’ve had a big day. Let’s head back and get some sleep.”

He pulls you up off the ground.

30 minutes later you’re back lying on your hotel bed

You lie your head down. God, what a night.

But just before you close your eyes, you have one burning question you need to ask:

“Harry… what the hell was in that pill you gave me tonight?”

You’re not looking this time.

But you know Harry is smiling again.

“That, my friend was… The Mindf*ck. The beginning of a 7-Day Adventure into what a personal brand really is.”

You close your eyes.

You feel the tension slowly start to leave your body.

And, filled with hope (but still a fair amount of confusion), you drift off into a deep sleep.

Lucky, really.

You have a sneaky suspicion you’re going to need all the sleep you can get over the next week or so...

PS. I built a $15k/month brand in under 6 months.

Want to know how?

Join 2,500+ creators getting daily insights here: harrybeadle.com