Wealth without working

I was once acquainted with a glib tongued businessman who cultivated the company of bent politicians. By some remarkable stroke of fortune. This man managed to get something extraordinary for the cost of absolutely nothing – a large concession of prime land. But since he never once saw the wisdom of spending so much as one sliver of a honest minute in the field. This fool had absolutely no idea how to manage himself and others effectively to bring out the best in that land. Eventually thru a series of mismanagement, incompetence and plain stupidity. This fool blew it all on a Byzantine life of dissipation involving gambling, womanizing and what I can only describe as a great diffusion of nothingness….he ended up despised and penniless.

The moral of the story. Easy come, easy go……nothing valuable is free in this world. I once met a crazy man on a Sunday morning who proudly told me and others in a booming voice, ‘he died for you!’ I distinctly remembered saying to myself, ‘if it’s for for free then, what he has to say can’t be very important.’ Thereafter I put two tic tacs into the hat and promptly left never to return again.

Never take anything for free…not a scholarship…grant or anything for that matter…not even so much as a kind word – it is poison…..I tell you this….it is poison. Never!

This is the defining difference between the wishy washy man and the man of consequence. Since latter has intimate first hand knowledge on how a thing comes about. Only this ilk of man can ascribe an intrinsic value to transform a thing into something valuable. He knows. As this man paid the full price plus interest.

As for the former since it all came to him FOC (free of charge) that thing can never acquire the true agency of worth nor value. Never! Even should these wishy washy people speak of these things, since they never once paid the full price plus interest. They are speak like modern art cognoscenti’s – it’s all an open ended abstraction.

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‘When I reflect deeply and honestly on the various people who once came my way and gifted me with knowledge, life craft and wisdom. It was never those who had the best intentions who brought out the best in me. I realize this may sound a trifle ungrateful and even callous. But since I strive for fidelity and accuracy with the measure of the truth….it is, what it is….for despite their genuine love, forebearance and giving spirit. These well intentioned folk merely weakened and robbed me of my resolve. Worst of all they filled my brain will all sorts of happy fairy tales that bore no reality with the actual machination of the real unplugged world. As a result they led me astray.

Ironically, it was my enemies who were my most dedicated mentors, astute luminaries and ardent teachers. Not only did they peel back the superficial veneer of the world to reveal it’s corrupt internal complications of endless intrigues. But since I was frequently victimized, ostracized and discriminated as I was different from all other men. I had the unusual privilege of a front row seat very early on in life to form a very accurate depiction of how the world actually worked.

I am not proud of this confession. But as I sat there and took it all in the front row – it was as if, I fashioned my character entirely from the very raw material of the world’s malevolence, viciousness and relentless attempts to break me in half. Since I was always acute conscious of my estrangement from society which came from never been able to fit in. I got used to the idea of being exile…marooned in my own mind. As I grew older the world forced me to conform….but I could only rebel…and in so doing. I fed on the righteousness, contempt and sanctimony of all my enemies. I even derived superhuman strength from their bile which enabled me to work without sleep for days on end along with building a very high pain tolerance. Not to mention my perpetual paranoia which makes me suspicious of everyone. Paradoxically with each successive attempt to fix me, all they managed to accomplish was to fashion their own nemesis.

Nothing has ever come easy for me…it’s all hard won with plenty of blood, sweat and tears. During the moment of my youth. I believed I was placed on this earth with no other purpose other than to nourish human suffering. I accepted my faith as best I could with an air of stoic finality. That could well be why I always had a furrowed expression and was considered autistic even as a child. But as I grow older I am beginning to understand how it all fits together….that my hard life was not a curse after all….rather it was a blessing.

Yesterday, I had a horrible nightmare….I dreamt of peace. Not just any peace. But the delectable sort of peace that creeps up on a man like a thief….where he might even loosen his heavy working belt. That deadly variety peace that is like an opiate when one may even decide to take an afternoon nap…grow a bit fat..watch TV…the peace of sweet repose and curelean skies where the clouds always look like candy floss….yes, the narcotic peace that useless peace that lulls a man like how Odysseus was seduced of his intent to return home to his beloved Penelope. The poisonous peace that eats into the fiber of manhood like the way acid rain weakens a steel bridge.

When I woke up. I was happy that it was only a nighmare….so very happy that life is still bloody hard like nails!’