Last time I hit a dab off the crack pipe I had smoked so much I was convinced my heart stopped and I had to pay a $500 ambulance bill. I genuinely thought my heart stopped and my entire life flashed before my eyes. And then I started thinking about what life could have been. Ever seems I imagined my dream life I have been chasing it non-stop over a year now.
What at is my dream you might ask. My dream is that I be my own boss, the pilot of my own life. But literally, be my own boss. I want to own a brand that is a reflection of my psyche and thus ever generating. With the soon replacement of all menial jobs with Artificial Intelligience, I predict personal brands will be the new big thing. The tricky thing is neither of my parents support this endeavor of mine to live out my dream of being paid to be alive and share thoughts and ideas. I mention “content creator” to the physical public and they spew millennial stereotypes onto me.
I am truly lost in this world I am in and my only map is this dream. If I die a slow, painful and poversh life because of it, well I think it would still be worth chasing.