There are many things I enjoy doing in my free time. Playing drums, getting online to play games, knowing it will end in a bout of frustration and empty promises of never playing the “piece of junk” game ever again, and driving around town, however, receive most of my time. But when given the perspective of knowing that I will die someday, and possibly have no warning as to when it will happen, the things I like to do suddenly seem like a mockery of the precious time I’ve been granted. They don’t amount to anything compared to the things I could do and the places I’ve not gone to. Before I die, I want to own and restore a 1967 Mustang GT500. It has always been a car that has stuck in my mind, and I think it is one of the embodiments of what an American muscle car should be. My dad and I have always bonded through cars, and I hope I can carry on that tradition with my kids. I like to work with my hands, so I would also like to complete a large project sometime, along the lines of a cabin in the mountains, or a dock on a lake. I want to leave several physical things behind that represent my work and efforts in life. These are just some of the immediate things that come to my mind when I think of my own bucket list. But if I had one that I had to choose, it would be to set the best example possible for those who will come after me, whether it’s my own kids, extended family, or friends. I want to stay true to the morals and self-expectations that my parents have instilled in me until the day I die.
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