seems to me..

that money is the worst friend you could ever know. you know, you would think that money would owe you: after all that you did to get it, surely you rightfully deserve a bit of
+respect
+prestige
+happiness
+comfort
for slaving to accumulate so much of it. yeah, ah/ funny thing...

money doesn't owe you nothing.

and you better believe i meant every word of that double-negative as emphasis. the hard, cold reality is that:

money doesn't owe you, it rather owns you.


let me tell a little uninteresting story. so in college there was a girl i knew...

i should clarify 'knew' in the very loosest sense of the word (i.e. invariably happen to see a thousand times more than i would like to in a week, and hear her loud conversations with her groupies in the lab, and may/may not have stumbled upon her daily style blog by unscrupulous googling? of her name (don't ask).

okay rambling aside, the point is: there was this girl. and i don't really "know know" her but i had aloooot of exposure to her. let's call her *britney.
*googling works both ways, even i know that.

britney was a particularly mean girl. snarky laugh, chiseled upturned nose, 6ft tall legs.. (and that's not even counting how tall the rest of her was): she was the whole shebang. but apparently her perfect exterior, posterior, and all other super-ior aspects did not make her a very happy camper. i think she chanel-ed quite a bit of her unhappiness into buying a lot of designer clothes, shoes, handbags, accessories. we're talking a lot.

any remaining negative energy i suppose was fueled right into her second largest passion: malicious meanness. ah yes, not a student, professor, nor cute visiting foreign-exchange family escaped her cruel sneering comments to her inseparable friend-pack.

one day in the lab, i was writing a research paper and per-usual britney and her driveling friend-pack decided the lab was the perfect place to socialize and be loud.

**i typed their following exact words into my email at school when i heard them so as to not forget

britney: "my super freaking rich step dad just sent me diane von furensburg luggage for my trip to itallyyyyyyy. he even signed it with a little heart.  omg omg, im like seriously 'i love you so much' right now in my head."

friend: "omg, we can't be friends right now, i'm totally serious. my target luggage is going to look so bad next to yours."

it was then... that i felt bad. no more for my poor little self. 
unbeknownst to my cackling adjacencies, their boasting was making me very sad for them. :/
i know they meant something else, something surely more glamorous, but all i could hear was:

-no dad
-new guy whose one claim to fame is being freakishly rich
-traveling halfway across the world, and all someone can muster to write to you is a 'heart'?
-"i love you so much"... but in your head? you can't say it to him?
-you love someone only for what cowhide/leather high price item they can give to you?
-a friend doesn't want to be your friend anymore because of how they will look next to you?


that's all that there is for them... things. 

owned by money. 'owned' by an unmistakable thirst to matter, to mean something by what they have. 


For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows. 1Timothy 6:10


in my Bible, for some reason i wrote beside that verse exodus 21:6 about a master piercing a servants ear to show ownership. money also has a way of piercing into your soul and controlling you.


note to self: don't buy the chanel earrings. ;)