You're not lost. You're trapped.
Every Sunday the feeling comes back, and every Monday you talk yourself out of it. This is the room that's open on the Sunday. Not to teach you to build — to help you work out whether you're going to, alongside people doing the same maths. You get in by downloading anything we make. No card, no application, no pitch.
Nobody at work can know, and nobody at home wants to hear it again.
You've had the idea for years. Your colleagues can't know — you'd become the person who's leaving. Your friends don't really get it. Your partner is tired of the same conversation. So it stays in the notebook, and every Sunday night the feeling comes back, and every Monday you talk yourself out of it. That isn't a motivation problem. It's that you're doing the hardest part alone, surrounded by people who need you to stay exactly where you are.
A room full of people doing the same maths as you.
On Telegram, always on. At 11pm someone with a job like yours is awake, thinking the same thing. Not advice — company. That's the part that stops you feeling insane.
One question a week, and I answer it first. Not motivation — the uncomfortable one. “When someone asks how work is, how often do you lie?” You'll recognise yourself in the replies.
Sunday evening is when it comes back. That's when the room is open and I'm in it. No agenda, no slides, and it isn't recorded.
Once a month I build something real on screen with AI, start to finish. Not a tutorial, nothing to follow along with — just proof, from someone who can't code. Recorded. No pitch at the end.
The Corporate Suffocation Index scores what the job is costing you across five dimensions and names which of five types you are. Two minutes. Most people don't enjoy the result.
When you stop deciding and start building, The Forge is there. Nobody will push you toward it. This room is for the stage before that.
First name and an email. That's the whole form.
The book, the podcast, the writing — all free, all now. You don't have to wait for the room to start reading.
Plenty of people read for months before they type a word, and that's allowed. But the day you write down the idea you've told nobody about, something changes. Most people here have done it. Nobody laughed.
This is the room you're meant to leave.
Most free communities are built to keep you there forever, quietly consuming, so somebody can sell to you later. This one has the opposite job. It exists to get you to the moment you stop asking whether and start asking how — and then you go and build, and this room carries on without you. If you're still in here in three years, reading, we both failed. Take everything, pay nothing, and leave.
- You're employed, paid decently, and quietly done with it.
- You've had an idea for years and it's still an idea.
- You can't talk about any of this with anyone in your actual life.
- You want the honest version, not encouragement.
- You're building right now and want a small room — that's The Forge.
- You've already shipped and want growth — that's The Room.
- You want someone to tell you it will all be fine.
- You want to be taught how to build — that's the Course.
Someone who stayed too long, and then didn't.
I lost around 250k€ when a venture went under, and rebuilt from a laptop — alone, with AI, for around 3.250€ in tools. What came out is roughly 2M€ of software. It's called FIKR, and you're reading this on it. I did the deciding part alone for years and it cost me most of them. That's the only reason this room is free.
Same road. Three rooms.
You're in the job, wondering whether to go. The group, the weekly resource, the monthly build. You leave here when you start building.
You've committed. Your own room of eight, every week, a roadmap from idea to shipped, and coaching twice a month.
See The ForgeYou've shipped. Customers, revenue, and whether to go full-time. Eight people who have all done it.
See The RoomYou move rooms when the question in your head changes. Should I → How do I → How do I grow it.