Money can be terrifying.
Time can be scary, sure. ‘Time’ is basically our word for ‘death’, but if insanity or faith has already destroyed your Self then your death will at least be tax-free.
We say ‘death and taxes’ to hide taxes behind death, to make sure we soil ourselves in the face of the former before we can kill ourselves in the face of the latter.
Time is scary, but money is terrifying.
I’ve been emotionally crippling myself with the fear of money since I was 9 years old; making friends was hard and now long division was hard, too so I was going to end up a bum.
I’ve since been a financial burden, thus an emotional burden, to my family, my wife, and the friends I’ll always assume are at least a little disappointed to know me. I’ve obsessed over and fled from Money, in every possible way. I’m going on two weeks of not updating my resume because it requires looking Money full in the face.
I’ll update the resume, eventually, and go back to full time work as a laborer, eventually, but if I won the lottery tomorrow I’d be terrified of losing it the next day.
Mammon, and every other name for every other god of currency, You are the name for terror, for a fear that keeps me miserable enough to say that I don’t deserve to live, even to hope that I’ll lose my mind before I lose all of You.
You are my arch rival, my nemesis, and may well have been even before long division.
Before. You attacked even before I was grown.
You failed to kill me before I was old, and I will make You regret it.
You see, all that fear has made me something of a monster, somehow able to both hope that I can cheat you and, now that I am old, know that I already have.
All those loving gods driving people to hateful things? They’ve got nothing on the unhealthy codependency you’ve grown between us. They’ve got nothing on the Love I’ve learned to hurl at you. I can hail you, hard and filthy, for every single moment that I remain myself.
I’ll hail every single moment I want, all over the mediums. Let the universe or no one watch, we both know I’m an abyss you’ve thrown a coin into. Make a wish, You who can always want and never wish, and I’ll throw it back.