March 1st, 2024

Dear Diary,

Today was supposed to be the day I etched my name in the annals of app history, the day my F1 predictions app would take the Grand Prix world by storm. Ah, the sweet taste of anticipation - turned, unexpectedly, into a goblet of sheer disbelief.

For two months, my life revolved around codes, caffeine, and dreams. Nights were when the moon kept company, and days blended into a relentless marathon toward perfection. Friends became mythical creatures, sleep a long-lost lover, and the app… my magnum opus.

Launch Day arrived with a sunrise that could only be described as ‘jubilantly mocking.’ The birds seemed to chirp, “Today’s the big day!” as I, with a flutter in my heart, executed the final sequence to set my digital creation free into the wild, untamed internet.

Expectation hung in the air like the potent scent of a pre-race fuel. Minutes ticked by, transforming into an hour, then two. The digital abyss stared back, unfazed and unimpressed by my offering. Not a single user registration graced the screen; the silence was palpable, an invisible weight pressing down with the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

All starts are hard, I reminded myself, trying to ward off the creeping tendrils of doubt with a flamethrower of optimism. Yet, this was not just ‘hard.’ This was the Sahara Desert at noon sans water, a marathon runner with shoes tied together, a symphony playing to an empty hall.

But then, a spark - a thought, small and defiant, flickered to life. All Grand Prix champions faced moments of profound challenge, their metal tested, spirits pushed to the very brink. Wasn’t this my moment of trial? My own pit stop challenge?

No start line is without its moments of solitude, its deafening silence as the world waits, holding its breath for greatness to burst forth. Perhaps today was not the day my app crossed the finish line amid roaring crowds and spraying champagne. Yet, it was the day I learned the first lesson of the race: perseverance.

So, I shall don my helmet of determination, strap in with belts of resilience, and push the pedal of passion with all my might. For in the grand race of dreams, it is not merely the swiftest who claim victory, but those who refuse to let the ghost of an empty start line deter their spirit.

To the future users, I say—wait for me. For when you arrive, you shall find an app, and a creator, that faced the void of zero and roared back with the heart of a lion. Let this diary entry stand not as a lament but as the dawn of an inevitable comeback.

In the immortal words of a the British racing legend Stirling Moss, “To achieve anything in this game, you must be prepared to dabble in the boundary of disaster.”

Bring on the race.

Yours in high-speed hopes, Aitor Odåsnac