A man who dreams of fame when he is young, and gets no fame, does not always recover the joy he once had in doing the thing he dreamt would make him famous. Painful memories of failure creep in, thoughts of brave ventures undertaken with élan, come to bad ends.
In a moment of spirit he may turn up his amplifier too loud and blast a scream to drown out everything else. That there can be little music in this moment is of no import, the thing is to wail.
Winners come up with winning plans, they dream practical, profitable dreams. They get someone to produce a product they can sell. They build profit into each transaction and make a healthy profit on the work of everyone who works for them.
Losers come up with idealistic plans that are difficult to explain and harder to monetize. They imagine that a good heart, patience, a nonhierarchical program with great creative potential, and generosity of spirit will lead to good things. They are set up to fail, because without a product people want to buy, and profit built into the selling of that product, they will never do more than dream of what might have been. A recipe for bitterness, if you ask me (though I know you didn’t).