Lost friend

Many years ago I parted waves with a very good buddy under acrimonious terms. When he asked me for moral support to marry a woman. I told him quite plainly, he was making the world’s biggest mistake by marrying a woman who in my opinion did not genuinely love him and was just a cunning gold digger – I even shared with him my premonition he would have three stellar years followed by three years of grief where at the end, he would end up heart broken, sad and penniless. As his tin pot wife would scoot away with all his money.

After that my friend never contacted me again. He took my frank assessment personally. He never asked me to attend his wedding. On one occasion when I fell into a spot of trouble four years ago and sought his help. He even cold shouldered me. So eventually all contact between us ceased.

As predicted. In those three years my friend lived like the Shah of Iran. Business was booming. Money was no object. And soon he found himself surrounded by parvenus, apple polishers and crooks who only told him what he wanted to hear. It all probably went to his head faster than 40% proof alcohol. I suspect he even went into business with these lackeys who screwed the shit out of him. In the final chapter, his wife, who was the keeper of all his money ran off with another man.

Worst of all he disregarded my parting advise to him before we broke – that he should buy a one kilogram gold bar every six months (since his business was doing well and he could easily afford it), trek up the mountain and bury it in the place where X marks the spot.

I told him then in a serious tone – when the shit hits the fan. That would be your second lease of life. You will need it!

He called me a cretin who should have been born in the age of sails, muskets, pirates and candles and even had the temerity to lecture me on wealth management with the opening words,

‘Who in their right mind these days buys physical gold and buries it like Captain Hook?’

Today everything that I predicted came to past without even the slightest deviation – it’s 100% with no margin for error – he has been declared a bankrupt, his wife has scooted off with whatever little cash he has. He lives in a broken house without a roof and he commutes to work in a bicycle.

I don’t even know where he is – he doesn’t even want to contact me and I don’t know why. As only I can put it all back together and make it all go away. This is not the first time my friend has crashed and burnt – without contact, there is absolutely nothing I can do because I don’t even know how deep in debt he is or for that matter what has transpired all these years when we lost contact.

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‘I am by nature a ultra paranoid person. That if you must know is the secret of my success. I take nothing at face value. If we ever get to sit down for coffee. 9 out of 10. Trust me. I already know everything there is to know about you – 9 out of 10, that entire conversation is recorded and it will be replayed at least twenty times to filter for any unusual inconsistencies against your body language. In our second encounter those areas of contradictions will be further probed to find out your hidden agenda.

If your mission is to infiltrate me. I can more or less guarantee you. You will be put thru every aspect of your training and much more and there will be zero margin for error. You will sweat hot blood!

I never keep to a schedule. My daily movements are random. I never take the same route twice if possible. I never walk into a building unless I have the blueprint in my head. I always arrive 30 minutes early to check out a place before an appointment. I pay special attention to where and how I park my car. It’s rarely ever out of sight.

I drink only plain water, eat only in places where I know the chef intimately and carry a strip of charcoal tablets, just in case I am poisoned – if he’s on leave, I settle for vacuum sealed biscuits.

I trust no one. I work on the assumption everyone is out to kill, cheat and deceive me, even if they show no outward motive to kill, cheat and deceive me. Nothing is regarded as benign. Everything is suspicious. Everything is a threat and duly security vetted.

I am a person whose impossible to get close too. There are too many layers of defense. I never volunteer information and if I do 9 out of 10, it’s probably disinformation. I am never taken in by flattery or by people who play on my greed and wants. I am always guarded about my designs and it’s virtually impossible to read my intentions as I have a habit of masking my true emotional state. I wear sunglasses all the time, rarely speak unless it’s necessary, seldom display enthusiasm even when something piques my interest, much prefer to ask probing questions while listening attentively – I am always suspicious and much prefer to act thru my army of lawyers and proxies anonymously in land deals.

No one really knows me well enough to allow anyone to approach them to ferret out any details concerning my life or to gain insights into my character, modus and financial status. I am an unknown quantity. Ultra low profile.

If anyone tries to assemble a picture of me. There are plenty of dead ends, trap doors and endless corridors of mirrors to waste their time and money along with confound and mislead them thus blunting even the best attempts to character profile me accurately.

Even my actions are frequently unpredictable. There is no discernible pattern. They are formless leaving endless possibilities along with impossibilities so that strategy formulation remains difficult.

Threats do not work on me. As I have mentally conditioned myself to function very effectively in stressful conditions. I can keep my cool and get the job done like a professional.

I live smack in the middle of nowhere. The roads leading to the house is bobby trapped. They are rotated daily. There are 5 layers of defense – even if a brigade armed to the teeth storms my house. The death count will be so high, it’s unlikely they would ever break thru to the last layer under their own terms. If George Yeo wants to spend a night in my plantation he will sleep sounder than Obama in the White House, that’s how safe it is.

It’s impossible to get close to me. Or to even attempt to influence me. Thru the years I have trained myself to function very effectively alone like a secret agent. I am immune to pretty girls with big tits, flattery, alcohol, emotional blackmail etc etc. I used to be a sucker for free home cooked food on account of my unusually high metabolic rate. But since this lack in character threatens to imperil me. As it’s not unusual for me to frequently encounter pretty women who regularly bribe me with home cooked food and expensive gifts of power tools and hardware equipment.

These days I keep my fetishes under strict control by having a strict policy of not succumbing to home cooked food and unsolicited gifts of power tools from women. I have put a bullet into that bad aspect of my character – it no longer exist.

I’ve trained myself thru the years to be comfortable and effective in living a simple, celibate and frugal life like a Templar Knight. There are no excesses in my existence, everything is striped down to its basic form and is 100% free from affectations.

The only luxury I allow myself is a cup of gourmet coffee that I cherish during my quiet moment very early in the morning when I sit and watch the sunrise with my Doberman guard dog who has just completed his night shift. My expensive mountain bike isn’t a luxury, that doesn’t count, it’s a high performance mechanical horse.

I have not had a holiday in 5 years. I don’t need to.

Above all I never trust myself with money and power and influence – that is why at any one time I only carry $50 with me and often pretend to be an inconsequential person with no authority whatsoever to make any important decisions.

The only time I broke this golden rule was four years ago when I had a wad of cash with me and a pretty girl in a short skirt who worked in a hardware shop offered me home cooked soup and successfully sold me $3,000 worth of power tools that I only use once every two years.

That one incident filled me with so much revulsion for my lack of self control, it continues to be a source of acute embarrassment till this day and merely confirms my long standing belief – I can never trust myself completely, when it comes to money – there is no shame in admitting this, that’s why I only have a habit of carrying $50 dollars in my wallet. That way I can never get up to no good even if I want to.

These are things they should teach every businessman in Harvard, but you know what? They don’t. Now you know why so many Americans who used to earn 5 figure salaries are living in their cars and shiting in plastic bags. I can almost guarantee you – you will never ever read about these keys of success in the Harvard Business Review….never.

Only remember this! Understand this completely! Only the paranoid survive and thrive. Failure is not an option. As Business is war!’