One day, after a Google event in San Francisco, a friend invited me to a mixer with investors and founders, and I went with him. It was an opportunity to mix with people informally but I wasn't prepared for the level of "informality" that followed. A black guy who was ex-military and had a few exits under his belt walked up to us and introduced himself. I was happy to see "a brother" doing well for himself, and he was happy to meet an African there. Dude just casually popped a green pill in his mouth and offered me one. I was taken aback and asked him what it was. He looked at me strangely and said; "Are you not ready to party?" I told him that I don't drink and I don't do drugs. He walked away from me in disgust. I started looking for the guy who brought me there, and when I found him, he was already as high as a kite. I couldn't make sense of what he was saying. They wanted us to move the party elsewhere and ordered some Uber Blacks. One of the servers working at the place, who was quietly observing us, told me not to go with them. I called a regular Uber and went to my hotel. I still remember this incident, and a couple of years later, I met the dude from the party. He was sober and never recalled that we had met. I don't know if it was embarrassment or if he clearly didn't recall. I left it, but never forgot. Chatting with @babajide today just brought back that memory. These guys people all admire in tech have an undercurrent fueled by substance abuse. It is what makes them able to think and do things that normal humans cannot. I remember another friend telling me how he would go with the CEO of one of the bigger social media companies on a silent meditation retreat for two weeks at a remote place. Not talking and isolating yourself for two weeks is how he comes up with his brilliant ideas. None of those guys were normal. I speak to African founders these days who are simply trying to survive and are pitching for small amounts, and I shake my head. The people they are competing with have transcended reality. Our tether to our realities is a blessing and a curse. It prevents many from thinking creatively to build products that have not existed before. The way I remove myself from all that is not drugs, but travel and new experiences. I also do a version of the silent retreat on my trips. I talk to nobody for a week and think. One experience I had in Napa will never leave me. I wrote some of the best articles I have ever written while isolated there.