Would you rather die alone or with your worst enemy? Because the latter seems a lot more likely, given that your worst enemy probably killed you.
What If?
What if a genie sued his master for forcing the genie to do something illegal?
Question your Reality
Money is an illusion. All value is imbued. Money is just a commonly imbued symbol. Even the gold standard only worked because people throughout history have valued gold. Same thing with diamonds. If everyone across the entire world suddenly lost interest in gold, it might not become entirely useless because it does have tangible uses, but the value would certainly drop. Even as a goal in life, making a lot of money is the seeking out of a pile of illusory value. Sure, there are things that illusory value can buy you. But most of the things illusory value can buy you are still just objects that you imbue with illusory value. If you thought of a pile of money as something that lacked inherent value, would you chase something else?
Mini Rant
Parading people as monsters really bugs me. A recent model is an alleged pedophile who participated in sex trafficking of young girls. Is that monstrous? Yes. Is he a monster? I think that deserves the question: how do people who make monstrous choices become so? Usually (not always) abuses heaped onto them, especially when they are young. I can’t honestly say that if I had lived that man’s life I wouldn’t have tried to cope with my pain in the same ways. It is actually possible I would have made even more monstrous choices than he did. I am in no way making excuses for the behavior. It is inexcusable. But I don’t believe that makes them a monster at the core. I believe regular, average people make monstrous choices with devastating consequences.
Semblance of a Story
A projectile zips past my head like an angry wasp, missing me by mere inches though I feel its passing tug at my hair. I duck, taking cover next to my brother in arms. He’s shouting something, but I can’t hear him over the pounding in my ears. My life didn’t flash before my eyes like they said it’s supposed to, but I can’t worry about that right now. I toss my head to clear it, and finally the shouting makes it through the mind fog.
“Aaron! We have to move. I’ll cover, you go high and take them from above!”
“Roger, Roger,” I say.
Roger grins. “You ever going to stop that?”
I smile. “Only in death.”
“For honor and glory!” Roger cries, popping up to cover me.
I lift my nerf gun and hurtle over the couch, a cry of battle upon my lips.
Dog Bear Says
Dog Bear says, “On your next Birthday, ask for a bottle of air collected at the top of Mount Everest. Not only will it tell you who really loves you, it will also be funny when there isn’t really enough air in the bottle to breathe.”