The next five years are not a test of whether I can build a company.
They are a test of whether I can stay true to the person I have always been.
I have spent most of my life hearing the same advice. Be realistic. Slow down. Choose the safer path. Stop chasing things that probably will not work.
I never fought those voices.
I simply never believed them.
The only voice I have always trusted is the one that has been with me since I was a child. The one that refuses to accept that the world is already finished. That the limits handed to me are permanent. That my contribution should be measured by how safe my choices are.
That voice has survived every rejection, every failure, and every moment of doubt.
It has earned my trust.
So I will keep listening to it.
I do not wake up because startups are exciting.
I do not wake up because AI is fashionable.
I do not wake up because investors might believe.
I wake up because I have never been able to convince myself that I came into this world simply to make someone else's system a little better.
I am here to build systems that make the world more intelligent.
Not intelligence locked inside models.
Intelligence that exists where humans actually live, learn, move, create, govern, and make decisions.
I believe the next decade will redefine intelligence itself.
Today's frontier models can reason.
Tomorrow's systems must perceive, interact, adapt, and work with the physical world.
The future belongs to intelligence that understands not only language, but intent.
Not only information, but action.
Not only prediction, but consequence.
I believe consumer experiences are where intelligence becomes useful at scale. They are where millions of people show how they think, choose, create, explore, and adapt. Every interaction teaches us something about human intent.
Games taught me this long before AI did.
Interactive worlds are not just entertainment.
They are environments where intelligence learns through action.
That idea does not stop with games.
It extends to robotics, public infrastructure, healthcare, education, governments, and every system where intelligence can help people make better decisions and do more together.
I do not know exactly what the final form of my work will be.
I do know the direction.
Advance intelligence wherever it can meaningfully improve human life.
If games are the first step, I will build games.
If physical AI becomes the next frontier, I will build there.
If the hardest problems are inside governments or public systems, I will work there.
The medium can change.
The mission cannot.
I have failed before.
I will fail again.
Failure has never changed my direction.
It has only sharpened my understanding.
I do not measure progress by applause.
I measure it by whether I am spending my years on problems worthy of a lifetime.
What will keep me going over the next five years is the same thing that has carried me through the last fifteen.
The quiet refusal to accept that my life is meant to end where other people imagine it should.
I do not need permission.
I do not need certainty.
I do not need guarantees.
I need difficult problems.
I need the freedom to build.
I need work that matters beyond my own career.
I want my life's work to expand what humans can do. Not by replacing people, but by helping human and artificial intelligence work together to solve problems neither could solve alone.
If, decades from now, millions of people use systems that make them more capable, more creative, more informed, or more free, and if some small part of that future exists because I refused to stop building, then my life will have meant something.
That is enough.
That is what the next five years are for.
And if the world tells me to stop again, it already knows my answer.