Green, and the Lack Thereof

I have never been a slave to money.

I am a content person by most accounts. I’ve never chased fancy cars, clothing, jewelry. Never been overly fond of debt.

I do have one particular sickness: books.

An opportunity has arisen, in which the personal library of a man I greatly admired is being offered up.

As I’ve never been a slave to, desire for, or obsessed over the accumulation of greenbacks, this is soul-crushingly painful.

Especially considering I’ve a roof still in need of mending.

Almost 50… Would’ve been nice had this whole writing thing panned out differently. But it is what it is. Life is short and I already have amassed more than I would ever need.

But the sickness is there. Gnawing. Hungrily wanting fed.

I am reminded of this, which I could not afford at the time and still have nightmares about:

crowley wellmanI may not covet the green stuff, but I sure do covet some of the things one can get with it.

C’est la vie


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