He will be talented, and what’s more he’ll know he is. It will surprise many that this knowledge will come without a single drop of arrogance or pomposity, and this will largely be because he will absolutely hate his incredible flair.

He’ll be a painter. An artist. He will be one of the finest artists of his generation. He won’t enjoy it, though. He’ll absolutely hate it. His curse, ultimately, is that he will not be able to look at a blank canvas without trying to fill that space. Yes, he’ll paint some of the finest paintings in human history, but he won’t enjoy any of them. Painting is not really what he’ll want to do.

He’ll dream, instead, of being a pilot, flying aircraft of all shapes and sizes. It’s something he’ll always want to do but, ultimately, it’s not a fantasy he’ll ever get the chance to fulfill. Instead, he’ll remain forever trapped, paintbrush in hand, canvas in front of him, just painting. This is a talent that will make him very rich indeed, but it is not one that will make him happy.