A speaker confronts young men with mortality, describing how confident youths become worm food and fertilizer for daffodils. He argues their legacies may amount to nothing but garbage, pushing them to question whether their ambitions matter at all.
We are food for worms, lads. Because believe it or not, each and every one of us in this room is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold, and die. I'd like you to step forward over here and peruse some of the faces from the past. They're not that different from you, are they? Same haircuts, full of hormones just like you. Invincible, just like you feel? The world is their oyster. They believe they're destined for great things, just like many of you. Their eyes are full of hope, just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because you see, gentlemen, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. What legacy? Go on, lean in. Listen. You hear it? Carbage.
He Sold Pickle Shots Out Of His Trunk. Now He Runs The Co-Packer That Won't Bury You In MOQs.
What market do you think gets overlooked most? #Toronto #BrandStrategy #Marketing
