I’m not a wise man -- far from it. I’m more of a long-term research project on how not to succeed. If I’ve ever sounded wise in our conversations, it’s only because I’ve personally tested so many wrong answers that a few correct ones slipped through by accident.
Wise men, we’re told, are associated with success. By that definition, KNN I must be the control group. In the Singapore context, a “wise” or accomplished man is supposed to live in a Bukit Timah landed/condo and drive a Lexus/Merc. Meanwhile, I’m in an HDB flat in the heartlands, monitoring CDC vouchers and Assurance Package payouts like they’re quarterly dividends from my portfolio of poor decisions.
My life is basically a navigation app set to “scenic route” from Tuas to Bukit Timah. Unfortunately, the app is glitchy, the GPS signal is weak, and I keep confidently turning into industrial estates. Over the years, I’ve explored so many wrong turns that I could probably publish an alternative street directory:
101 Places to Go When You’re Trying to Go Somewhere Else. To-date, I've still not found Bukit Timah.
So please don’t confuse accumulated failure with wisdom. They say “failure is the mother of success.” I’m still waiting for the maternity ward to call. At this point, however, I’ve become the overachieving father of failures, with a very large, very well-documented family tree. CB !
