By the standards I set when I was 25, I’m a failure today.
But if I had done all the grandiose things I planned back then — and gained immense wealth and power as a result — I would have been a complete failure by the more mature standards I set for myself today.
It’s a paradox. I had to lose everything I once valued — and I had to wander in the desert for a metaphorical 40 years — to finally arrive at a place where I feel qualified to even start living a life worth living.
I have struggled through years of what felt like defeat and exile. I felt as though I had blown my chance to do the things that matter to me. But something has changed.
I’ve realized that I am entering into my best period yet — intellectually, creatively and emotionally. I am finally where I wish I could have been at 25 or 30. I had to take a long but necessary detour — and I’ve finally arrived at the start of my life.

Dead man’s watch always there to remind me of my own mortality
Which side should we take in Syria? Let’s just mind our own business
All humans are a little bit insane; we’re not as rational as we think
There’s magic in the dark solitude and quiet stillness after midnight
By end of Pooh movie, I wanted to stay in the Hundred-Acre Wood
If I perform well enough for you, will you give me love, approval?
Herman Cain’s GOP support causes confusion for Demos’ race narrative
If romantic love is real and true, does it never really fade away?