Money Money Money; is so funny; in the rich man’s world. are the lyrics of a very popular song. Its funny to the rich man cause he knows the pointless-ness of it. Its not to the poor man for he has not seen its true worth. Less than paper.
I propose an original myth about money:
Man lived long and strong for eons, without money. His love was plagued by urges of food and safety and freedom from nature’s wrath or unknown disease, yet he understood that his life was pointless, without any grand existential meaning. He partook of hallucogenic plants and saw alternate reality, He packed up his home and was perpetually a nomad, roaming where his feet could take him. Yet there was no sound or touch of money in his heart or mind.
One day man stood up and walked as usual, yet his mind was plagued by something disturbing; the mind in its fury reiterated again and again like a hammer… why why why. Why are you born, why are you walking and why has your reign not come to an end yet so far…?
Man was perplexed, he was an animal, an upright citizen of nature; and yet he never had such impulses directed within him ever before. Something was asking him the ‘meaning’ of his ‘existence’ . He never took it to be a cause of anguish or despair and yet now it had become exactly that.
Why be born, when you are to die? Why walk and roam when you are to rest inside the earth? Why hunt when you are to be hunted? and nothing made sense ever again. Man had awakened the hungry demon of doubt from within his mind. The demon never went asleep or hungry ever again.
The doubt spoke in his ear, loud and firm. It chose him and he thought he was special (or something like that/ this doubt chooses the weakest and the least willed.
He thought he was born to do something great, something unique. Something special that no one else had seen. The doubt worked inside his frame, changing natures gain into painstaking greed. He wanted more, more from life, more from his breadth and more from his sight. He was never satisfied, he remained quenched in eternal thirst. Liberation once which was his, now had to be reclaimed like everything else.
He became the inventor, inventing nature’s device. He bought and sold and made the myth of money green like envy and alive. Its no coincidence that we equate money and materialistic gain with satisfaction. For the more we have, we imagine, the more in truth still remains.
Money became the goal. The point in this vast vast existence on this lonely planet within the frameless frame of reality. Money became the goal indeed; the path to fame/name and to be winner of a game (trivial one at that-life). It was what we all worked for. We worked not so that we may be as we are. We worked to improve, create, re create and dissolve. All which are meaningless acts as any other. But with the invention of this imaginary invisible doubt. We chose to give each of our acts meaning. Covered in self-satisfying ego gain- through money and gold. Something only our race could hold as of value.
Money has now become an obsession beyond any scale measurable or imaginable. Money has become a distinguishing factor even within our own race, Money does not do good. It only makes us unkind to others and ourselves (causing inertia of body and mind). Money has a purpose, But we do not. We are children of eternity, and all of you must know by now; eternity has no purpose. It is eternal.
Money makes you ‘educated’ and lack of it (in our pockets) makes us ‘cynical’. It is the umbilical cord which sustains our emotions. We cannot love without it, live or breathe without it (or its effects). So what our minds doled out eons before as doubt regarding the nature of existence. Money has been able to fill to the brim through inertia and conformity, through material acquisition and drudgery. Through killing and dying. It is the prime class a drug of our race/species. We need it in our wallets like junkies need heroin.
We feel satisfied when we have enough of it? Not quite, when it comes to money and it as a reflection of our uniqueness. Then there is no enough of it, your bank balance is easily matched by so many others out there. So you must fight and bicker and earn so that you could bring back satisfaction regarding a bigger goal (in your life) and the toils which you undertook to achieve it.
Money does not feed you. Money does not clothe you. Money makes you whole. does it not? Save the bullshit, you and I are no deep and wise creatures of consciousness or light. We are slaves to doubt and money has forever been our god.