That’s it. That’s the dream. I’m almost mad that that’s the dream.
That’s half the dream. The other half is being fairie fucking godmother to everyone on the planet.
See, I had 100k for a hot minute. Doesn’t matter why. But for nearly a calendar year, I picked up the tab every chance I got, i lavished people with gifts, I took a friend to Greece, I paid for healthcare for myself and a few other people, for lawyers to help someone get out of an abusive marriage, Christmas presents for a single mom of 3.
It felt incredible. Just to take away the worry and say, “I’ve got you.” Instacart groceries to a grieving friend of a friend across town. Pay the unexpected car repairs. Gift a young artist a yearlong subscription to Procreate.
That’s why I’ll never understand billionaires. If you could fix it, if money could actually make even one life better, why would you not do it? Even just for the kick? Hell, i don’t care if it feeds your ego. Be Tony Stark, be Superman, idgaf. When you’ll never be able to spend all that you have, even if you some up every damn day like it was your job, if you could end world hunger six times over for the price of a social media company, why wouldn’t you just DO IT?
I don’t have a coherent conclusion to this, except that if I ever meet Jeff Bezos, I’ll beat him to death with my bare fists.
