CHILDHOOD ASPIRATIONSMaxwell POV After the celebration with my parents, I returned to my room, the echoes of laughter and the clinking of crystal glasses fading behind me. I closed the door slowly, letting the silence of the room wash over me. There was something comforting about it—the quiet, the solitude. It was in these moments that I could reflect, plan, and dream.I had always been a reserved boy, quiet but observant, with an insatiable curiosity that set me apart from most of my peers. Even as a child, the concept of ambition pulsed through my veins like a second heartbeat. At fifteen, my room had become more than just a bedroom—it was a sanctuary of learning, of exploration. Stacks of books lined the walls, biographies of the greatest entrepreneurs and innovators I could find: Rockefeller, Ford, Buffett, Gates. Their triumphs fascinated me, but more than that, I sought to understand how they had achieved those triumphs—the strategy, the discipline, the foresight.I remember l
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