The journey doesn't matter if the destination sucks

I realized why I hated my corporate life so much, even though, objectively, it looked good from the outside. It was a “cushy” job: unlimited PTO, a high salary, and reasonable work-life balance. But I didn’t care about the destination.

It took me so long to realize this because we all know the saying: “It’s not about the destination; it’s about the journey.” But that’s only true if the destination is somewhere you want to go in the first place.

I didn’t care about the destination at all, so every little annoyance compounded and made my life miserable. It’s like being with the wrong person: all the little things become big things. You hate the way they chew, the way they breathe, the way they dress. All of these things are petty, but when you’re with the wrong person, they get magnified 100 times.

Sometimes, the destination itself is a mirage. At first, I thought I wanted money. I thought money would make me feel fulfilled. It didn’t. It wasn’t money I wanted. It was freedom and ownership over my life that I craved.

Or maybe I just moved the goalposts—who the fuck knows? Maybe what I really wanted was wealth ($10 million-plus), and the money I was making wasn’t enough to make me happy.

All I know is that I wasn’t happy with the destination. I don’t want to spend 20 years climbing the corporate ladder to make $1 million a year while someone else takes most of the value I create.

I want to eat what I kill.

So what’s my new destination? As Felix Dennis put it: “Never give in.” I will build my own thing. I don’t care if I make minimum wage. It will be something I own. Until I lose everything, I will not give in.

I will not fall for the sirens. They almost got me. Their beautiful song almost made me forget who I am. Sirens are not witches or monsters. They are the beautiful illusions of comfort, luxury, and security. That is what has killed so many men.

I’d rather be adventuring than comatose.