Ahh, only if I could be forgiven, yet, how could I ask for such?
I would never forgive myself if I were them.
Again, I despair, yet also hope, "the next one will be better"
Many times has spoken words wounded my relationships.
At times, I'm unusually wise and adeptly introspective, and at other times I am suddenly very insensitive.
The first call rang without an answer, and the next one was cut short mid-ring. Calling a third time, I realised, would've been futile.
My restlessness was filled with an irritating silence, forcing me to meditate retrospectively on the recent ordeal.
We've come a long way, they've grown on me, we've grown together.
I despair, for I lack the excess emotional bandwidth to share to another.
I despair, for I am weak and crave comfort from this sorrow, maybe regret. I regret I said those words.
The first call rang without an answer, and the next one was cut short mid-ring. Calling a third time, I realised, would've been futile.
My restlessness was filled with an irritating silence, forcing me to meditate retrospectively on the recent ordeal.
Yet, things, especially words, have a way of changing, conveying more or less meaning than what was originally conceived in thought.
I brought them to the rivers of my remorse, yet couldn't force them to drink the waters of my apology.
I feel this may be the end...
In the January of this year, I told myself I wanted to send five girls to school, all on my own, with no outside help. I didn't know how I would do it, where the finance would come from or where I would find the girls. I just knew I wanted God to use me to bless others.. A thread
A friend of mine was an excellent chef turned failed restauranteur.
He loved cooking. Was excellent at it. Had friends over often and really enjoyed cooking for them. He would get told by everyone who tasted his food "You should open a restaurant."
Eventually he did. Took out some loans. Quit his 9-5. Opened a restaurant.
He ran it for about 3 years. Worked 60 hours a week. No vacations. No more cooking for friends. Every Thursday through Sunday night. The last one to leave at 1am.
The only time he saw his friends they were in his restaurant and he'd stop by between stressful situations to say hi.
He gave up a few weeks ago. Broke. In debt actually. And broken as a human.
Reading the google reviews for the business it is a little sad...
No raving fans like in those dinner parties in his home. Just customers complaining about cold food or slow service or undercooked steak.
It turns out running a profitable restaurant has very little to do with your ability to cook.
Running a profitable and successful business of any kind in any sector consists mostly of doing the same things:
Recruiting, hiring, training, managing, selling and solving problems.
He wasn't a manager. He didn't enjoy confrontation. He wasn't a people person.
He spent very little time owning a restaurant actually cooking. Almost none of it actually.
Don't start a business for selfish reasons. It isn't about you. It isn't about doing what you want or love to do.
If any business becomes successful the owner will quickly graduate from doing that fun thing...
And they'll find themselves recruiting, hiring, training, managing, selling and solving problems.
Might as well start something that gives you the best odds of making great money while doing those not fun things.
Every few months, someone guarantees the housing market is about to collapse.
And every time, it sounds convincing.
A while back, I was under contract on a mid-sized apartment building right as interest rates were climbing fast.
2 years ago, I spoke to a CRO who did ~$4M in a year.
All from community.
He shared a private 47-page doc.
That conversation changed how I build my business.
Here's how most people sell:
get attention → sell → repeat
But the real leverage is:
build people → keep them → grow with them
That’s what community does.
Not more leads.
Better ones.
Longer retention.
More referrals.
Implemented it for my own business.
Client retention up 22% YTD
LTV nearly doubled.
People buy more, refer more and never leaves.
The best businesses are built on people.
A friend asked why I wasn't buying REITs.
In Real Estate Investment Trusts, you collect the dividend income from commercial real estate, but you skip the midnight maintenance calls.
You don't need a massive down payment. You just need to redefine ownership.
Everyone remembers their first real estate deal.
Mine was a slightly tilted duplex that I bought with a dangerous amount of blind confidence.
I remember standing there with the keys, feeling like a mogul in the making. I had read the books, listened to the podcasts, and built-
But I walked away with something more valuable:
The ability to see what’s really there—not just what’s being shown
What’s one expensive lesson your first deal taught you?