
Letâs be honest â most people donât fail because they never got the big opportunity. They fail because they stepped on a landmine on the way there. Not the heroic kind you read about in memoirs, but the quiet, stupid kind of mistake that feels small in the moment â and then rearranges your life.
Some call these âirreversible decisions.â Others call them âlife lessons.â Around here, we call them AIDS-events â not to shock, but because the metaphor fits: high-risk, low-awareness choices that spread ruin across your health, your finances, your reputation â and often, your sense of self.
These events donât sneak up on you. They walk right in the front door wearing charm, dopamine, and short-term upside. But once theyâre in, they donât leave. You donât recover from an AIDS-event. You adapt, downgrade, or die a little.
Letâs talk examples.
AIDS-event number one: Youâre twenty-four. You just got your first real paycheck. You celebrate like a king â bottle service, late nights, fast cars. And then comes one DUI. A spinal injury. Maybe a passenger doesnât make it. Suddenly, that party wasnât a rite of passage â it was the start of a ten-year downward spiral.
Another one: You ignore every red flag she throws. The jealousy, the debt, the âmy ex was crazyâ stories. You marry her anyway. Now youâre staring at alimony, therapy bills, and two kids who call your replacement âDadâ on weekends. Thatâs not just a mistake â thatâs a lifetime subscription to regret.
Then thereâs leverage. Your buddy tells you to âgo all in on the dip.â You mortgage the house, borrow against your future, and YOLO into a trade you barely understand. The market dips harder. You get liquidated. The brokerage doesnât send flowers. Now you’re not a trader â you’re a case study.
Of course, AIDS-events donât always scream danger. Sometimes they whisper. A degree in something no one pays for. Unprotected fun on vacation. Co-signing for your cousin whoâs in âcrypto coaching.â These arenât just lapses in judgment â theyâre Trojan horses for ruin.
The harsh truth is this: you donât get rich by finding the next big thing. You get rich by not destroying yourself before you even get the chance. The real winners? Theyâre not the boldest. Theyâre the ones who are still standing.
Avoidance doesnât get enough credit. In a world obsessed with hustle, hacks, and hyper-growth, not doing stupid things is underrated. Saying no to that party. No to that investment. No to that text message. Those are the quiet victories no one applauds â but they stack like compound interest.
Avoiding AIDS-events isnât fear-based. Itâs strategy. Itâs the asymmetrical art of choosing what not to do, because you understand that survival is a precondition to success. When the downside is catastrophic and the upside is questionable, the optimal move is exit.
The best part? Youâll never hear about the people who avoided disaster. They donât post about it. They donât go viral. But you know what they do? They buy land. They raise families. They sleep well. And theyâre still in the game long after the leveraged legends flame out.
Of course, not everyone avoids the trap. For those who insist on touching the stove, thereâs always the Darwin Award â a posthumous pat on the back for improving the gene pool by leaving it. Itâs not as prestigious as it sounds, but hey, if you play dumb games with leverage, livers, and lunatics, you might just win.
In the end, the sovereign path isnât just about seizing freedom. Itâs about dodging destruction. Wealth, peace, and power are cumulative â and you only accumulate what you donât destroy.
So the next time youâre tempted by a shiny distraction, ask yourself: Will future-me thank me? Or will I be explaining this to a lawyer, a doctor, or a therapist?
Choose wisely.
You might just get rich by doing… absolutely nothing.