On Dreams.
Two dreams I care about. One small enough to fit in a child's heart. One big enough to fit the whole sky.
A wish, granted.
I support Make-A-Wish.
Make-A-Wish grants the wishes of children with critical illnesses. A trip. A meeting. A day where they get to be the kid, not the patient.
I give to them because dreams matter. Especially to the ones running out of time. A wish doesn't fix what's broken — it just reminds a kid that they're still allowed to want something. That alone is worth more than most things I'll ever build.
We've always looked up. It's time we went.
The long one — the stars.
I want us to reach what we've only ever admired.
People have stared at the stars for ten thousand years. We've named them, navigated by them, fallen in love under them. We have never touched one.
That's the part that gets me. Every time I look up, I feel the distance — and I don't want my kids, or theirs, to inherit the same distance.
So this is the long bet. Build companies. Make money. Send it back into the mission — the rockets, the AI, the materials, the people who actually go. I won't be the one walking on Mars. But I'd like to help pay for the ticket.
Now is the window.
Launch costs are finally falling. The gap between admiring and arriving is closing in our lifetime.
Dreams compound.
The kid whose wish gets granted today is the engineer who builds the ship tomorrow. It all connects.
Kitty Hawk to the Moon.
66 years. We don't lack capability. We just sometimes forget we're allowed to want this.