Yesterday when I was young
...
I ran so fast that time and youth at last ran out
I never stopped to think what life was all about
And every conversation I can now recall
Concerned itself with me, me and nothing else at all
...
The time has come for me to pay for yesterday
When I was young
Shirley Bassey said this best - once.
is swept along, abandons its own direction.
All that fills its vision are the swaying rumps ahead, the stench of dung, and the musk of fear.
Unknowing, it follows them blindly into the abyss.
What do we call it when a bunch of companies collude to set prices, fix markets, close off competition, capture regulations, bribe politicians?
We call it a cartel. A drug cartel, an oil cartel, information cartel, and yes a banking cartel.
Don't visit your children in old age unless you're prepared to see the truth in their eyes.
The truth that you are no longer essential.
The truth is your presence once sacred now might be seen as inconvenience.
The truth is that in their fast paced life, your slow steps are a burden.
Don't chase crumbs of affection from children who are not equipped and self-absorbed.
You must carry yourself with dignity, not desperation.
Intelligent people have a different relationship with solitude than most.
Where others see loneliness they see clarity. Where people fear abandonment they find freedom.
This isn't because they're emotional deficient. It's because they've learned something most never will.
That their greatest insights, their deepest growth and their most authentic self emerges not in the chaos of constant connections but
in the deliberate space of chosen solitude.
Most people form relationships to escape themselves.
Intelligent people often withdraw from relationships to find themselves
Bitcoin is like the tide, a planetary force.
"Shitcoins" are rickety, leaky dinghies, destined to capsize.
The face of opportunity is rarely seen but the back of it, often.
One is never prepared for an accident.
Appreciation is for yesterday.
Perfection: absolute simplicity, never attained.
I am NOT who you think I am.
You, ARE who you think I am.
The past is a construct of the mind.
The future is a phantom mirage.
The now was the future and is the past.
Life is a f#@king buffet.
In youth, roam the spread—hungry, untamed, tasting it all.
With age, return—wiser, deliberate, savoring only what truly feeds you.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.