Do you realize that if you were to put in 500 words or a page of ideas, stories and opinion a day, by the end of a year, you would have written a book. Looking back at my old posts and writings, I cannot feel a sense of lingering and nagging disappointment. I used to be full of hopes, and there are so many things I wanted to do. Writing a book (I have no idea what to write on), take a year off and travel the world and collect all the ancient 7 wonders (technically only 5 more as I have visited the ruins of the Temple of Artemis and the Colossus of Rhodes), write and perform a play, get CFA and ICAEW ACA designations, master Japanese and German, and have a stream of passive income.
Fast forward to about 10 years later.
I have achieved none. I guess I will look at this post again in 10 years time and lament about my inactivity and then continue to binge on food and tv shows. Cliche as it may be, life is too short. Painfully short.
"So what's the probability of your being born? It's the probability of 2.5 million people getting together -- about the population of San Diego -- each to play a game of dice with trillion-sided dice. They each roll the dice -- and they all come up the exact same number -- say, 550,343,279,001." ~
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