Any story of rags to riches never fails to attract my attention. It just feel great to know that most of them are just ordinary people like you and me, while some were even worst off. I've read about Oprah, how she was dirt poor before she become what she is today, I've watched the movie Happyness starring Will Smith and his son Jaden Smith, I know Antonio Banderas was just a poor immigrant from Mexico before he struck it big, Zinadine Zidane grew up in one of the poorest corners of Marseilles and yet he is one of the biggest names in international soccer; and there are so many more outstanding achievements by ordinary people as documented in books or films. I've read the book, Rich Dad Poor Dad by Robert Kyosaki and several other motivational books by other famous authors.
Fuelled by the fiery fires from these motivational sources, I joined the sales industry and was raring to go out into the business world, a world supposedly filled with big money. But when I really did venture into the real world of doing cold calls, just about after the first rejection that I encountered, I was as good as done. Maybe sales were just not for me after all. I left the industry, blaming the cold, harsh and arrogant people of the corporate empires.
Perhaps I should have tried an "easier" way so I went into the "investment" sector. I decided to gamble my luck and cash away on my favorite numbers in the lottery. I've heard of odd-job workers striking it big and yet still preferring to go back to work. What were they thinking of? If I could strike it that big, I wouldn't want to work for others; others would be slaving for me. But after years of trying, after having to endure long queues amid stinky body odors during every draw (the queues were longer than those at any financial institutions and it's a bumper-to-bumper kind of queues), I called it quit, again. It was tougher than doing the sales. Maybe I should have been more humble, like pledging to go back to work for others even though I myself was already a millionaire by then. Maybe it is the Karma thing that blocked my speculative luck.
So I was down for a while trying to figure out what is the best thing that I can do to make myself rich. I don't have exceptional talent like Angelina Jolie or Cate Blanchet nor do I have a voice like Carrie Underwood. I'm not even eligible to try out for American Idol. I don't know how to make people laugh like Jimmy Kimmel; who only have eyes for Simon Cowell's nipples.
A close friend who took up Feng Shui courses advised me on my facial features. She told me to tone down my caterpillar-like eyebrows which according to her were blocking my luck. Just look at Madonna, she said, her luck just got better with age. So I Google Madonna in her younger days and my goodness, my friend was right. Madonna's eyebrows were worst than mine. They looked like two Samurais dangling above her eyes; so inauspicious. But look at where she is today, with properly defined eyebrows, of course.
I told my friend I might not be destined to be rich and famous since my features are not quite balanced looking. Nonsense, she said. Look at Brad Pitts' ears, they are so small for a head as big as his, she argued. Then I took another long, hard look at my facial features; everything was just too big, big head, big eyes, big mouth, big nose, big ears, and even big teeth. I looked like the Big Bad Wolf in the Red Riding Hood story. Maybe I should have a smaller nose, I suggested. Never! She said; don't ever do a "Michael Jackson". See what happened to him after he messed up his face? His life is written all over it. Wow, scary huh?
Okay. So now I have come to term as to why God gave me such big facial features. Maybe He got big plans for me so I might as well just sit back and wait for God to make the big moment happen. To all you guys out there who are still struggling to find riches, all the best, you need that more than I do. I'm just waiting for it to come into my life.