You’re on your deathbed.
You’ve got just 1 hour to say goodbye to your folks.
You look around.
You’ve got everything you’ve always wanted to buy. Your Lamborghini is parked right outside the window. Your diamond studded watch which you bought last year is still sparkling. Your backyard swimming pool looks beautiful. Your wallet is still heavy.
You look around again.
You see the best doctor in the country treating you, the best cook in the city taking care of your diet, and your housemaid making sure your deathbed is comfortable.
You’ve got nobody else.
You close your eyes and you look back.
You did not ask that girl out because you were too scared.
You did not stay in touch with your little buddies, because hey, being busy is cool.
You messed up your marriage because you were too busy working.
You did not spend time with your kids because you came home late and left early.
You did not make enough friends on whom you can bank upon in your darkest times because you chose professionalism over emotions.
What did you really do then?
You made money, but you failed to make memories.
Now you die with regret and around 3.6 million dollars in your bank account.
Happy solo voyage. Oh, don’t forget to take your Lambo with you.
So what makes someone a failure at life?
You tell me.