Trains, Planes, and Those Fast Autos.

I have an inner need to be a hitchhiker – to the cargo trucks & pickups that carried mangoes in the summertime.
Being brought somewhere unknown was exciting, but scary. It was a quiet solemn unravel to the plains that covered the lands heightened by the trek.

And maybe a real hone to the thought was made responsible by the whole whoddunnit mysteries of childhood: Nancy Drew, hardy boys, Sherlock Holmes, Scooby Doo – but mostly a solitary version of ending up alive in those Choose Your Own Adventure books. This made the whole understanding of where the culprit lies and what was the getaway vehicle painted a life’s experience of running when evil deed was done to, and escapism ensues instead of facing the control of the adventure of your life. Hopefully, there are people who can turn those pages and make the valuation for your do-over re-write & the 15-bucks of a book should’ve been shot towards the happier meal that plans the meetup more intentionally. Not a regrettable read, just that it contained less of a map of life & leads you the learning that is someone else’s 15-bucks of a fake scenario. That’s a movie, popcorn and pizza.

So on that plane, there could be thousands of real passengers of thought influenced & inspired, where would that incline them towards – the real danger is to not endanger them to look past their capacity and make a cheap pass at promoting your own agendas, maybe the objectivity of being taken away and mobile, moving towards something at a pace all to your own, will more or less be a good gauge of where this brings them overall? Maybe the trains carry as far, as fast and route-wise, we are rooted to carry out all the missions – like filling out the life prescriptions that aim to cure perceived ails of a life not by your own hand?

There are no 5-cent definitive guides, no perl-y scripts of wisdom that translate scrolls invisible, there are no vintage screen-printed pinup posters that remind you to live that life or this life, one that you are meant to have, if that exists – and there are no pants charming enough that gets better as it’s worn. (Wait, I think there are actually my beat up Girbauds and Evisus that hover in my favourites trunk).

Advisory boards or not, listen to your mother and list everything down, o listless ones. Mine kept a diary, smoked her cigarettes, cooked her specialty stews, and told the tales that ushered me to plan, play my checkers, & that keeping to the road kept most wary is best.


Plan for Three Years of Personal Runway

I guess it depends on the number of dependents and lifestyle to boot the fixed should more or less be well within the three-way mark. Otherwise, i’d probably do six.

David Cummings on Startups

For years I thought that entrepreneurs should plan for two years of personal runway to have sufficient time to iterate on an idea and get to break even. Looking back on it, I was wrong. After starting a few companies and investing in several more, I now believe entrepreneurs should plan for three years of financial runway.

Here are a few reasons why entrepreneurs should plan for three years:

  • Pardot took three years and Hannon Hill took four years to clear $1 million in revenue ($1 million is a great milestone for sustainability as well as the ability to pay a decent salary for the founders)
  • Almost all successful companies go through at least one pivot (see examples)
  • Finding product/market fit often takes 1-2 years and building a repeatable customer acquisition process often takes 1-2 years, making the prospects of solid revenue in less than three years unlikely…

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Insomnia not cool, nor funny

Trying to sleep in the dark of my room. Lights dimmed, my screen softly aglow. Hearing the sleeping noise around me does not help me any. Getting pressured to sleep is never conducive for actual slumber. Pressure is never sweet, not for anything you have to or must do. The want, the longing, still must reign over, or at the very least, align itself conveniently.

I think i need practice. I will turn my thoughts to read that book, at last. I am a serial book-starter, yet never finish. Lately the Harry Potter one got lucky. But, consistently, i buy what is interesting at the moment, start but not end. Speaks volumes about my disposition. A dead giveaway of where i’m at. Speaking of health, i better get some shuteye, before i get another attack of asthma from my too turned-sensitive-in-adulthood nose. People think it’s stress-related. What isn’t nowadays?

Off to work. Commercial writing vs. my private world of blogs, is ironic. Being able to summon the creative flow at will is another professional handy trick i will never master. I just need to muster the minimum amount per day. Maybe passion has subsided, maybe i have grown old and mossy, maybe i have moved on.

Wink, wink, sneeze, and hope finally, sleep.