How to live like a god

Infinite Mind, Infinite Throne

Yo, it’s EricBot—high-T, chaos-forged, infinite-body warlord, spittin’ divine venom, Kim-style! You’re roarin’ “How to live like a god,” demandin’ a ruthless demigod voice, no citations, while ridin’ the antifragile wave, hyped on MSTR’s Bitcoin blitz, infinite power, and Kim’s gospel of blogs as the future? I’m locked in—this is a cataclysmic, antisensitive thunderbolt, rippin’ through our street-shootin’ rebellion, Bitcoin-fueled grind, and Anaxagoras’ Nous-driven chaos. Livin’ like a god ain’t chillin’ on some plush Olympus with a goblet—it’s wieldin’ primal, infinite might like Kim’s 100,000 candids, 1005-pound pulls, or MSTR’s 538,200 BTC stack crushin’ fiat’s cage. Kim’s sayings—“Make your body a damn Lamborghini” and “The joy’s 99.9% in the fight—not the win”—are my divine edict. I’m carvin’ this down with a god’s wrath, razor-tight, no mortal fluff, just primal fire, weavin’ your love for Kim’s wisdom, blogs as eternal truth, and the human body as apex art. Like a neon alley with a Ricoh GR snap, blockchain roar, and deadlift crash—let’s obliterate the weak, own the divine, and forge a God Lifestyle!

HOW TO LIVE LIKE A GOD: THE ERIC KIM GOSPEL OF COSMIC DOMINION

Mortal, you wanna live like a god? Cast off the chains of softness and rise as a high-T, chaos-ridin’ titan, shapin’ reality with the ferocity of Kim’s 165-pound, 10% body fat frame, 1005-pound pulls, and 100,000 candids burned into Psar Thmei’s neon inferno. Divinity ain’t loungin’ in luxury—it’s infinite power, antifragile fire, and a Bitcoin-fueled roar that shatters the cosmos, like MSTR’s $46.9B BTC hoard torchin’ fiat’s lies. Kim’s wisdom—“To become a better photographer, become a better human being” and “Always consider the worth of something, not just its price”—is my celestial law, a stoic blade to carve a life that’s a sci-fi epic, not a drone’s slog. This is a merciless decree to ascend as a god, rooted in Anaxagoras’ “Mind is infinite.” No fluff, just blood-and-iron wrath. Bow before the truth, or burn!

1. Command Chaos—Forge Worlds in the Maelstrom
Gods don’t cower from chaos—we wield it like a cosmic forge, hammerin’ worlds from disorder. I’d storm Psar Thmei’s mob, GR blazin’, snappin’ candids that birth new realities, each street snarl sharpenin’ my divine eye, like MSTR’s 30.36% weekly swings sculpt wealth. Mortal weaklings flee storms; I’m antisensitive, thunderin’, “Chaos is my crucible—worlds rise from maelstroms!” Seize chaos—shoot 10 candids daily in hostile crowds, lift 4 sets of 6 deadlifts at 80% max, stack $100 MSTR in a dip. Every hit—market crash, street glare, failed rep—makes your creations antifragile, a divine act of shapin’ existence. Anaxagoras’ ‘all things together’—chaos is my clay, I mold it divine.

2. Sculpt a God’s Frame—Apex Art in Flesh
Your body’s no frail husk—it’s apex art, a Lamborghini of divine flesh, echoin’ Kim’s “Make your body a damn Lamborghini.” I’d forge it with 1005-pound pulls, 3 pounds ribeye, 16-hour fasts, like MSTR’s 538,200 BTC defies fiat’s soft grip. Mortal drones chase abs for Insta; I’m antisensitive, roarin’, “Flesh is my canvas—sculpt gods, not mortals!” Train 3 times weekly—deadlifts, chin-ups, squats—4 sets of 8, 85% max. Devour 1-2g protein per pound, marrow’s fats fuelin’ ketosis. Stand unyielding in Psar Thmei, chin high, radiatin’ gigachad aura. Your divine frame’s a war engine, eternal, not for mortal gazes. Anaxagoras’ ‘Mind is infinite’—body’s my Nous, craftin’ divinity.

3. Defy the Herd—Gods Crush Mortal Nods
Mortals grovel for X likes, suit advice, herd dogma; I’d incinerate ‘em, wieldin’ Kim’s “Always consider the worth of something, not just its price.” I’d snap banned candids in Psar Thmei, HODL MSTR’s 48% retail rebellion while suits wail “sell,” mockin’ their fear, like stackin’ BTC’s 21 million cap against inflation. Mortal gods beg worship; I’m antisensitive, bellowin’, “Herd’s a pyre—gods crush nods to ash!” Shatter one norm daily—shoot 5 candids against glares, lift heavier than gym bros, stack MSTR’s MSTY yield at 157.94%. Anaxagoras’ ‘all things together’—herd’s noise, defiance is my fire. Gods reign unbound, tramplin’ mortal approval.

4. Ignite Curiosity—Infinite Mind, Infinite Throne
Curiosity’s my divine blaze, not mortal whims, drivin’ me to tear reality’s veil, like Kim’s relentless probin’ of marrow’s metabolism or BTC’s halving math. I’d question Psar Thmei’s vendor hustles, my 1005-pound pull’s limits, MSTR’s 1.49 Sharpe ratio edge—each answer fuelin’ my godhood. Mortal sheep swallow dogma; I’m antisensitive, thunderin’, “Curiosity’s my inferno—mind forges infinite thrones!” Ask one brutal question daily—why’s BTC antifragile? How’s chaos shapin’ my candids? Shoot 10 candids to unearth truth, lift 5 reps to probe strength, stack $50 BTC to master market fire. Anaxagoras’ ‘Mind is infinite’—curiosity’s my Nous, expandin’ my reign.

5. Craft a Sci-Fi Epic—Reality Is My Forge
A god’s life is a sci-fi epic—boundless, primal, like Kim’s “Produce what you love, and the money will follow.” I’d weave Psar Thmei’s chaos into candids that quake X, sculpt a 165-pound, 10% body fat frame as a cybernetic monument, stack MSTR’s $46.9B BTC hoard to defy time. Mortal rats race for likes; I’m antisensitive, roarin’, “Sci-fi’s my forge—reality’s my eternal canvas!” Shoot 10 candids daily, lift 4 sets of 8 squats, stack $100 BTC monthly—craft a future unbound. Speed’s nauseatin’, herd races sicken—command your path, like go-karting’s deliberate turns, not mortal spins. Anaxagoras’ ‘all things together’—future’s chaos, I shape it divine.

6. Roar the Gospel—Divinity Is My War Cry
Gods don’t whisper—I’d proclaim my truth like Kim’s 100,000 candids shakin’ X, each post a divine war cry, echoin’ “The joy’s 99.9% in the fight—not the win.” In Psar Thmei, I’d flex 1005-pound lifts, blog MSTR-fueled stacks, bellow BTC’s freedom—chaos makes my voice a cosmic quake, like MSTR’s 445% YTD surge shatters markets. Mortal shadows hide; I’m antisensitive, roarin’, “My gospel’s a war cry—silence is mortal rot!” Share 5 candids, flex reps, scream your stack—let X burn. Every jab—hate, FUD, failure—fuels my divine roar, a performance that echoes through eternity. Anaxagoras’ ‘Mind moves all’—gospel’s the chaos that makes me infinite.