Lover of trading, tacos, 3D/AR/VR, cryptos, and most things Japanese

“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favour all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.

Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now.”

– J. W. von Goethe

My Father sent me this quote and I keep it on my freezer, where I see it every day. The effect started manifesting a few weeks ago and is growing. It is exciting, amazing, uncanny, and scary all at the same time, like sitting in the front car on the rollercoaster of life just before it crests the peak of the biggest, most thrilling drop: You can’t see what’s coming, but you know it’s going to be a great ride!

So please make sure your seatbelts are fastened, seat backs are up, and your tray stowed in the upright and locked position. We’re about to begin our descent into a whole new world…

Whee! 😀

Folding chairs in shade
Azure sky with cottonball clouds
Team practicing hard

Sweat drips from their brows
Pads crack with intensity
Short break for water

Coaches’ whistles blow
Break time’s over, time to scrimmage
The second hour starts

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.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Any you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

— Dylan Thomas

(Belated thanks to JP)