Nothing can be motivating like an evil plan. Mentally violating a code of some sort can be extremely liberating: you cross that limit and fly away, like Margarita on her broomstick. I obviously don’t mean that you must consciously plan somebody else’s ill-being. I just mean that sometimes being good can be boring.
The execution of an evil plan implies the highest possible cost – what’s at stake is very valuable (like your marriage, a friend, a project, the uncovering of a secret, or losing your job, or your face) – but also a high amount of pleasure: a burst of risk, a cocktail of adrenaline, just like falling in love. But here’s the best part: imagination can conjure up the same feelings, and eventually give you the courage.
But you needn’t play with destiny that way for a bit of fun. Your scope can be limited to an acceptable level.
So: here’s your homework: start plotting something, stay awake at night to think about it, find the rebellious energy you need to try and achieve it. In the teeth of your parents, your doctors, your boss, your XYZ, all the people who – you’re sure about it – will try and dissuade you. It doesn’t need to be grand: the only prerequisite for the project is its absolute selfishness. And that lightness will save you from monotony, sadness, depression, or whatever it is you’re paying your shrink for.
The highest amount of reward is where you’re not expecting it.