No matter how much time you get, you always wish you had more
Him: Wait, how old are you?
Me: 38. Why, how old are you?
Me: I think I hate you.
I own some Apple stock. And when I say “some” I mean a pittance. Like enough to buy a really good dinner at a five-star restaurant in the City.
Whenever my stocks go up, feel that greedy urge in me go: Man, I should have bought more. There’s always that feeling that what you’re lucky enough to get, is never enough.
Was wrestling the other day with some Asian guys. The thing with Asians is that it’s always hard to tell how old they are – even for ourselves. While we look young, though, it’s just the appearance. Time just keeps on going.
Which goes with my formula that Time¬=Money; Time>Money. And here the greed’s even greater cause no matter how much time y’get, you always wish you had more.
Read the eulogy that Steve Job’s sister wrote for him. It’s very moving – if y’get a chance today, you should read it. His last words I find especially profound in their honesty and simplicity.
I wonder, then, if there’s a time that we become ok with the amount of time we’re allotted.
Hope so. Not afraid to admit that it scares me. The not knowing.
And now for some levity – think the same is roughly true for Asian men:
Location: surrounded by blueprints and surveys
Mood: slightly anxious
Music: My scarecrow dreams When they smashed my heart into smithereens
YASYCTAI: Read that eulogy. (10 mins/0.5 pts)