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POST: 0009
PROSE
11-30-02021

Bear with me while I quote these two Christians.

“Adults devise a financial plan and follow it. Children do what feels good.”

- A flim-flam man whose name rhymes with Rave Damsey

𝕵𝖊𝖘𝖚𝖘 𝖘𝖆𝖎𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒, “𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖓 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖊, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖉𝖔 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒, 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 k𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖉𝖔𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝕲𝖔𝖉 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖆𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖘𝖊.”

- Mark 10:13-16

I’ve not read the bible, but I’m making an assumption. Financial planning is the devil's work.

I’m living like little children. I’m doing what feels good, all the way to the pearly gates. I’m calling off budgets and I’m calling in abundance. Money is fake and dirty; beyond comprehension, Archonic traps, soiled with usury. I’ve decided I’m spending and spending on my desires, never-ending. I’ve got the support of church and state. 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖎𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖑𝖊 𝖊𝖓𝖉. Adam Smith’s blessing. I’m stimulating the market and it’s stimulating me. I’m doing what feels good.

I’m not working, but I’m working. Consumption is my profession and debt is my duty. Paying off that debt with debt is my creative side hustle.

My prayer hands are shaking.




Because I’ve been parking wherever I want this week and I’ve racked up 10 tickets. I’ve got my offshore virtual assistant handling it, my Senegal secretary at $҉6҉  an hour. She is paying off my citations, reserving my hotel stays, and securing me a solid supply of Ivermectin. She is combing the web for workman’s jackets with just the right amount of wear-n-tear; jackets from god-fearing farmers with way more debt than me, and way less fun to show for it. Those fools thought they were farming food, but they were farming vintage; that working-class look is trending. Everyone is after a garment has been blessed by someone else’s honest labor. Fuck your soybeans, rancher. I’ll buy your ragged threads instead, for $҉1҉5҉0҉ .

I’m eating red meat, and I want to look like I’m the one who killed it.




I’m buying $҉1҉0҉0҉ New York strips with fat caps as thick as 2 cam girls. I’m taking a bite and tossing the rest. “𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖓𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖙 𝖎𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖊,” as they say. I’d sure hate to say that on a refugee raft. I’m only kidding. I’m I just donated $҉5҉5҉5҉  to an NGO helping those displaced by war and climate. I’m turning my debt into tarp shelters and bags of rice. I want everyone to feel good.

Yes, I’m tithing with abandon. I’m slinging bills at all the 𝙄𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙜𝙤𝙜𝙤𝙨 and 𝙂𝙤𝙛𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙢𝙚𝙨. The artists are finally getting paid, and everybody’s mom is getting the surgery they need. But please, don’t call me and tell me about your mama’s melanoma melodrama. I’ve got $҉5҉0҉ bucks for you; take it, and stop bumming me out. I don’t have an ear to lend or a shoulder for tears, but I have dollars. Take my dollars. I need to get back what feels good.

Because tonight I’m rolling 10 deep in Vegas. We are heading out for body sushi and we’re all taking turns on the table. I’ll be nude, save for the sashimi 刺し flown in from Kyushu 九 州, surrounded by beautiful chop-stickin’ influencers from every shade on the gender diapason. We’re mixing MDMA and Sake 酒. We are playing with a child’s abandon. Kingdom bound. Our hedonic amp is cranked to【１１】.

I could care less about the bill.




My friends look at me worried. My liabilities are impressive. My payments don’t touch the interest. But what the hell do I care? $҉1҉0҉0҉ month for unlimited funds, that’s how I see it. I’m in the red, but I never feel it. Easy come and easy go are blending together. It’s just easy. Cause it’s easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to get a pass to heaven, right? I’m poor on paper, Peter; let me through them pearly gates! I want, so badly, for pleasure to be prayer.

I stressing. I’m hedging. I’ve got my virtual assistant working on it; my Senegal savior. She’s spending 3 hours a day meditating on my abundance. She’s focusing her third eye chakra on a vision of my financial happiness. A vision of me free as a little child, on a beach, in the arms of JC. But I getting mixed up. There is only one set of footprints in this sandy scene. Apparently, he’s carrying me? Either that or I’m alone. Am I alone? I’m definitely alone. I hope I’m not alone.



The dollars are falling from my hands like angels from heaven. I don’t feel so good.