Wanting to be paid for your work is not a fucking crime.
Enough is enough.
The most powerful human creations to ever embed themselves into the bones of this planet—from Michelangelo’s statue of David, to Dostoevsky’s masterful novels, to Vermeer’s astonishing photorealistic paintings, to Steve Jobs’s Apple brand before it became a diluted reflection of what it once was—deserve to be paid for.
Despite what most capitalism critics will tell you—you are not a villain for wanting to make money from your work. Whether you’re an artist crafting a painting with standards beyond your wildest dreams, or you’re an entrepreneur crafting a startup brand that could change the tides of technology and humanity forever, you are not a vindictive, greedy, disgusting human for wanting to be paid for these extraordinary ambitions.
The fact that people feel so entitled to the hard-earned work of others should tell you one thing: most people lack an imagination, lack a drive to create work that shifts the perspectives and hearts and souls of millions, and lack the empathy to understand that just because they have zero desire to contribute meaningful work to the rest of the universe, does not mean that you must do the same.
Small thinkers will always try to keep others small. They have forgotten how to dream, or have never learned how in the first place. They are addicted to victimizing themselves and pulling others down to the Underworld of Depression with them. It’s very important that you do not listen to these people.
This includes your friends. Acquaintances. Lovers. Family members. You will start to see who truly belongs in your circle once you recognize these feelings of projection transformed into Weapons of Soulful Destruction.
These people will demonize ambition. Though, it’s not a mark of viciousness; it’s a mark of fear. It’s an ingrained symbol of insecurity that is curable in most, but unfortunately, often not noticed until they’re clawing through the grave. It’s a signal people who you, under no circumstances, should want in your circle if they try to break your spirit.
It is an absolute embarrassment to the human race that we have conditioned ourselves to shame the desire to make work that earns money.
In western societies, in particular, it’s so frowned upon to want to make money from your passions—although, it seems more morally acceptable as long as you’re a “starving” artist, oddly enough—that you receive more judgment than support, more scathing criticism than helpful advice, and more hypocritical finger-pointing than blasphemous Christians protesting the funerals of gay soldiers.
Read this, and read it closely, as if it were ink drying on your dying parents’ will…
This is not a letter for the people who shame others for wanting to be paid for their work. This is not a letter for the people who would rather waste their time criticizing people slaving away to sell their work online. This is not a letter for people who get real, vile, unabashed joy from collapsing the spirits of artists and entrepreneurs who are fucking up publicly.
This is a letter for the people that need just one voice to tell them:
You are meant to create. You are meant to make money from what you create. You are meant to make money from projects you love. That you care about. You are meant to make money from work that inspires others. You are meant to make money from work that helps others. You are meant to make money from the perspective of the Artist and the Builder that you were never allowed to listen to before. You are meant to make money without listening to the naysayers. You are meant to make money exactly how you fucking want to.
Now…
There is a very important element to this narrative, that most people forget to talk about. You could argue it’s more important than the reminder that you are morally obligated to create work that lights your soul on fire, and you are also morally obligated—to the Self, to Society, and to the human race—to make money through that work, in order to continue the cycle of creation.
You know it, already.
This is the most sickening truth behind it all.
You already know this to be true, but you’ve been too afraid to admit it to yourself. You’ve been so afraid to admit it to yourself, in fact, that confronting it is so beyond uncomfortable, and you immediately fall back into your instinct to retreat into your weakened shell.
That one sickeningly hard yet uncomfortable truth, is this…
You must ignore what everyone else says. Even if it hurts. Even if it costs your comfort. Even if every part of you wants to give up before you can fail. You cannot care what anyone else thinks. Ever. You cannot put any stock into what they say, positive or negative. To rely on them would be a disservice to you and your individual ability to overcome the impossible. Remember—these people are not you. They will never be you. They will never do what you do. They will never dream the way you do. You must ignore them. You must, instead, focus, create, build, and serve your soul with the body of work only you were meant to make—and actively magnetize money (without apology) through that work.
The moment I stopped worrying over the marketing, product strategy, and positioning of my manuscript—the one I’ve been shedding blood, sweat, and tears over for over ten years—was the moment I started writing the story I truly wanted to write.
There were people that told me—out of good intentions, always—that I needed to abide by specific strategies to create a marketable book. That I should use AI to outline and write my novel. (Disgusting, I know). That I should use data and numbers and statistics to drive the decisions of my art, instead of allowing both to play in a mutually symbiotic relationship.
Now, I’m ignoring all of that advice. I’m choosing a path of my own. I can be concerned over the marketing once I finally write the story. This is unconventional, and perhaps frowned upon, but the reason it hasn’t been finished yet is because I’ve had to keep rewriting a book that never felt like it was “mine.”
Only this year, in 2026, is it finally becoming a story that is, actually, mine.
A story that I know, once published, will attract the right readers and repel the wrong ones. A story that will magnetize people who wanted this exact message because it’s a reflection of a soul that understands them. A story that will not be perfect, and I have chosen that the pursuit of perfection will limit the width and breadth of emotional impact found in the rawest, truest art. A story that I believe will create movements and inspire ideas and establish new narrative footprints across thousands, if not millions of minds ready to embody those things.
This should be how every artist feels.
This should also be how every entrepreneur feels.
My problem was that I was warring against my Inner Artist and only listening to my Inner Entrepreneur. I was listening to outside voices who had no idea what it feels like to create work from your soul because you need it to live. I was listening to opinions built from people who are not artists, are not entrepreneurs, and who have zero ambition. I let them dictate my future. For some, fucked up reason.
Once I silenced the war between the Inner Artist and Inner Builder was the second I reached outstanding clarity. The answers were right there.
And with this comes the other revelation—my desire to be rich.
I want to be rich making what I love. I want to be rich selling novels. I want to be rich through businesses and brands I’m creatively inspired by and filled with energy to complete. I want to be rich creating what I want to create. I want to be rich investing in artful works and enterprises crafted from similar ideals. I want to be rich writing, making, and building.
And I am not a villain for wanting to be rich through my art.
For me, my art is many things. It’s the novel. It’s The Oyster. It’s the podcast. It’s the future YouTube channel. It’s the copywriting work I create for clients. It’s the brands I’ve designed and built in concept but have yet to execute. It’s the ability to find joy and interest in a variety of interconnected fields.
And I swear to you—this will make me millions.
That is how it will be for you, too.
If you truly want it, you can have it. This has been proven time and time again. Stop listening to your inner naysayers and study the artful people who’ve accomplished extraordinary things. Study people who never gave up. Study the people who stopped giving a fuck what everyone else thought. Study people who’ve done the impossible. Study people who have turned their art into lucrative careers. Study the success stories. Study the failures.
Build a circle of evidence so undeniable, so unbreakable, and so bulletproof, that you have no choice but to listen to those pieces of evidence, and not the anti-capitalism rhetoric that screams: “You’re evil for wanting to make money.”
You. Are not. Evil. For wanting. To make. Money.
I can’t believe I have to say that to you.
For you to read that over and over again in order to believe it. I can’t believe we live in a society where it’s far too easy to demonize success because you believe you’re a better person for being fucking poor.
How vile it is celebrate those who put down others because you are insecure. How vile it is to shame money because you are too small-minded to see the brilliance money in good hands can create. How vile it is to project your insecurities onto friends you care about because the thought of watching them make money with their art makes you feel worse about yourself. How vile it is to punish others with moral signatures because you are too weak to see that you are the problem. How vile it is to wish harm, failure, and darkness onto someone because they had the audacity to build their dreams.
As an artist of life, business, or whatever the hell you’re working on—the only thing you should be ashamed of is if you never try.
If you create your projects in silence because you’re afraid what would happen if you unleash them onto the world. If you build a business then dismantle it before it can take traction. If you draft the concept of a new book, only to burn it to ashes before it can take flight. If you craft a course selling real methods, frameworks, and systems you truly believe in, only to shut it off because someone called you a scammer for wanting to monetize your knowledge.
That is what you should be ashamed of.
But your desire to make money through your work?
That is one of the most important blessings you must take advantage of as a human being.
To ignore that calling is to abuse yourself.
Do not ever forget that.
- Taylor