Long story short, I've been busy.

Lots of writing. And other stuff that doesn't involve words unless I remove my hand.

Anytotheways...

The worst thing about my line of work is that writing can't be a hobby. Well, it can be. But it's hard.

Fortunately, I like hard things. To an extent...

Ooofff... this is another useless post where I just type words. Oh, what the hell, I'd do that regardless of Steemit. Why not put it out there for the world to read?

I've been making a good amount of moolah lately. Nowhere near where I'm supposed to be but it's enough to keep me happy and puffy.

A weird thing happens when you earn enough money to satisfy your basic needs and then some. You stop caring about the bloody thing.

People have warned me about this. They told me that there's a tipping point between poverty and comfort where your will to make cha-chinks will transform into contention.

The amount of money differs from homo to homo.

For some humans, it's $1000k/ month for others it's $10k/m and for some greedy fuckers it's $100k/m.

I always thought that this is a problem you have to solve. But since I'm approaching my point of contention, I have to say that this is the natural order of things.

It's the hierarchy of values manifesting into your life.

What do I mean by that?

I don't care that much about money.

I'm not willing to make the sacrifices required to earn $100 million.

Because I know what these people look like. You'll be surprised how boring and stupid they're outside their very niche expertise.

Please, fuck off with your nearly-autistic presence.

OK, there are some people who're quite good at what they do, and they add value to the world. But you'll notice that for these people, money is a vehicle and not the destination.

That's it for now, love.

See ya in a bit.

-Thatredbeardguy