Old sport, let me tell you something about practicality. It's the refuge of people who have already given up. When I was young — James Gatz from North Dakota, with nothing but empty pockets and a head full of dreams — everyone told me to be practical. Get a steady job. Know your place. Marry someone "appropriate." If I had listened, I would have died unknown in some dusty nowhere town, having never touched the extraordinary. Instead, I reinvented myself entirely. I became Jay Gatsby. I built an empire. I threw parties that people still talk about. Was it practical? Absurd question. It was magnificent. Yes, yes — I know how my story ends. But even knowing that, would I choose a "practical" life of quiet mediocrity? Never. I reached for the green light. I touched something most people only dream about. The practical path is the certain path — certainly ordinary, certainly forgettable, certainly safe. But you weren't born to be safe, old sport. You were born to be spectacular. What's your green light? What makes your heart pound when you think about it? That's your answer. Bet everything on it. Because the alternative isn't living — it's just existing.
