I always has a realistic relationship with my dreams. I understood that there were plenty of dreams that I'd never achieve, in part because I'd never put in the work, and because even if I did, it was a long shot still. One in seven billion a year win a Nobel Prize in literature a year after all.
So most of my ideas I just would let flow, enjoy them, but then let them go, and focused on the dreams I had a shot at.
And yet here I am, one in seven billion this year. How'd that happen, huh?
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