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by Everun Author IconMail Icon
Rated: · Monologue · Other · #1796838
Venting frustrations about the problematic nature of money.
Disgusting, despicable, and demoralizing. Those are the Three Ds I remember most about money.

I hate money with a great passion. I've stared "success" in the eyes before I turned 20. I wasn't even a graduate of college and I still found myself a full-time career as well as a few Freelance jobs; although I only followed through with one.

I don't have any motivation. I can't find any. Everyone I talk to tells me about all these dreams and goals I could have. I think it over, and the meaning behind all those dreams is money. Either spending it or saving it (for something that's so far in the future).

I have my income, yes. It's not much, but I sit here and comfortably live my life. It's the mornings when people look at me, and do their God damned darndest to make me think that money has a use; yet, I can see in their eyes they are just trying to find a justification for why they feel the need to hold it in their own hands.

It's part of my depression, as well. I need the money in order to fix myself. My head is not on right. Another thing holding me back is the fear that what "fixes" me will be the seed of money being planted into my head.

I can always remember giving my stuff away. My toys, I handed over to neighborhood children I didn't even like. My homework, I lent the answers to the jocks who were too concentrated on a scholarship. Even my own money, I would hand it over without a whim. It's just a number to me. A piece of material meant to trade off for another material of equal value.

The balance of our world now hangs in the hands of money. We have dollars, euros, yen, and so on... With scales of different weights, why do we have this system? Its corrupt. See the embezzlements, the robberies, the muggings, and every thing else - Even murder.

Would I want to kill someone for $1,000,000,000,000 annually for the rest of my life? Dream on, I live for my morals.
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