Sometimes I’m hit with a pang at how fundamentally fucked up beyond repair the world is.
It’s bone-chilling that we live in an already dystopic world and have been for centuries. In which our basic survival and needs are shackled to a man-made construct: money. More entrenched than ever, and as a result with power more dangerously consolidated than ever.
Is it not completely illogical and horrifying that work that brings the most, and most direct, value to our lives, such as shit shovelling and trash collection, for health, hygiene, standard of living, are paid the least?
And the most useless – or most times malignant – work are most highly compensated? For instance any work that makes people spend more, manufacture more, without any positive impact to our well-being, health, survival, or propagation. Beyond a few seconds of dopamine boost. Not only is it a harm to humankind but also the soil we are rooted to. The earth that gave us life.
Is it not depressing that 99% of us work tirelessly for ONLY, and I stand by this ONLY, the benefit and luxury of the undeserving 1%? I say undeserving because all deserves basic necessities, but NO one person deserves a $2 million piece of accessory, especially at the expense of many, many other’s suffering, but they do.
I strongly believe no one person should be a billionaire. Or a multi-millionaure. There should be a universal cap on one’s personal wealth, for what one person could need or use so much? Just a tiny fraction of their assets brings about a larger than proportional benefit to individuals, and then a ripple effect to the rest of society.
When I’m feeling shallow and unthinking, I tell myself I ‘love money’, it’s fine, what’s the point of fighting a system I can never change, why not just work within in and make the best of a futile situation.
Other days I’m in shock that we let humanity spiral to this state. When such a mood strikes and come face to face with the bleak reality, I question where most of my efforts are expended.
In my ideal world there is no consumerism. We live to live: eat what we need, socialize, reproduce, have a community, simple entertainment through art and music.
Currency is but trade of skills. A baker’s loaf for a weaver’s basket. The way it was before the first shekels changed hands.
It is also in a bout of these musings that I rethink my ‘love’ for money, struck by the irony that I chase after the one thing that oppresses us all, and start thinking about what I can do that doesn’t perpetuate this rot, but rages back at the machine, even a little. Throwing starfish back into the sea kinda thing.
Ultimately, I’ve not been brave enough to begin on the harder path that aligns with my inner belief. Yet.
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