I Don’t Want Your Money, You Want Mine

I am pretty sure it is Thursday, and the reason I’m pretty sure of this is because we are getting a delivery of hand sanitizer from a distillery today and, quite frankly, we are all way too excited over a thing as routine as basic sanitary components.

That is where we are now though, we can’t go back to “normal”, because how was that going for all of you anyway? It doesn’t matter what strata of society you occupy, you want the change. Now, of course, those of you who are perhaps looking down from your perches in the clouds at us lesser mortals and chortling away as you use your 39th roll of toilet paper of the day and decide to go yachting because that is social distancing, might see this and think that I am jealous of your pretty cars, big houses, and zeroes in your checking account.

You see, for a long time I was. I wanted to be this millionaire and I thought I would be better than everyone because I would do this and give that and then I realized where that money would come from. The people I would nearly have to literally trample to get to that brass ring and the blood it would take from them for me to be able to “give back” and I just said fuck it and while I am not particularly content where I am in life, I sure as hell don’t want to be one of you.

My People, my Tribe, those who keep me safe and healthy, sane and alive, they are the things in my life that matter. I would bleed and die for them, rob and kill for them. I love them because they love me. II have nicknames for all of them, I know their birthdays and anniversaries, their best days and their worst. I know I can text one of them and they will keep me away from that edge I get far too close too from time to time and that is the DEFINITION of wealth in my eyes. I don’t need to be as rich as Croesus or wallowing in the much of avarice to know what wealth is, I have it and I pray to the Great Goddess Every. Single. Day. That I can do for them what they do for me, if only in a small part, if only a smile in the darkness.

I celebrate their victories because that is what you are supposed to do. You are not supposed to sit in a corner and pout because you don’t have thing X that they have. Children who are raised badly who do that, adults who do that are still those same children, they just wear more clothes and bother more people on average. If they win a thing, I cheer for them, if they lose a thing, I grieve with them, if they are down I try to raise them up and when they are up I am the most awesome cheerleader with a beard ever.

That is all I wanted to say, even I don’t need to go on for hours every day.

Rawrz Motherfuckers

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