Sunday, March 15, 2015

Part 4: Things Keep Ending

Freaky view, huh?

They say when you have 900 million dollars you've no right to complain. But I always say, "Hey, it's not like I'm a billionaire!" And besides, I'll fucking goddam complain if I want to and who the hell is anyone to tell me otherwise? If you actually knew anything you'd have kept your damn mouth shut in the first place.

It's been rainy far more than usual here lately in Dallas, leaving my downtown penthouse fogged in a good deal of the time. (No, that's not a complaint) I actually like this as it has suited my mood of late. I'm in a fog in every sense of the word. I guess some would say I am in purgatory, somewhere between heaven and hell. Heaven (Woman Of Fabric) shuns me while I shun hell (Texas Railroad Commission, the ISIS of Texas*). The mental trips I endure on a daily basis would blow your mind. It's as if I'm in a whirlpool that never drains; a plane in a holding pattern that never lands. But I see no possible good endings for scenarios like that.

A lifestyle is not a life but I keep trying to shop my way to victory. God knows what I'd do with my time if I had no money. Ever since my failure with the Woman Of Fabric, my pleasures keep dying. It's as if the world has turned to ice and I can gain no grip. Just slipping, slipping, slipping. Even so, knowing nothing but the old habits I stick to them until I can find something better. So I went antiquing in Dallas' famed Design District. Whip a dead horse and maybe it will twitch.


I found a nautical item I wanted at Griffin Trading Company. I'll find a place to squeeze it in my office but the whole time I felt more like Citizen Kane than an honest purchaser. I kept picturing the end of the film where they're throwing everything into the fire to rectify a life uselessly spent. I imagined the Woman Of Fabric watching that scene and shaking her head at me. I feel no hope.

Bored, not wanting to return to the confines of my gilded cage, I made a left turn down Irving Boulevard from the store. It's one hell of an ugly street. That's when the mental trip began. Without the illusion of money, where would I be? Would I be stuck off in those crummy apartments I'm passing by till the day I die? I have no discernible talent. I know in the movies it always turns out a guy like me has some hidden talent or skill or something to offer in the end. In real life, you're just stuck in the shit.

"If they only knew." That voice keeps getting louder in my head. Some people have to believe I'm happy with my paper wealth and even turn violent if I suggest otherwise. They are but pawns in the world. If you could join the circles of the rich and hear how we candidly talk you'd be shocked at how full of shit the entire situation is. Most of us are worthless bums looking for a free ride as we complain bitterly about so-called worthless bums in the street "looking for a free ride."

Irving 2 Irving Boulevard

Irving 11 Rooms without a view

Being on the other side of the looking-glass, so to speak, I'm forced to face truths the moneyless do not. Looking for a free ride is what the money concept is all about. Oh, you'll hear all the bullshit rationalizations of it being a tool for commerce or how it's "needed" to force productivity and a bunch of other rot but if you could hear how these fuckers talk you'd see how farcical it is to call these jerks "pillars of society." They just want to keep their de facto slaves while propagating the alleged morality of money.

We super rich, you see, are really scared shitless on the inside.

We wonder when you're going to wake up and realize the con. Truth be told, it's you conning you, so eager to believe the lies of paper wealth. But if you were to realize your best interests - give up the idea of ever getting a free ride - we'd be out on our arses in a heartbeat. We're hanging by the thread of mutual corruption. True, it's been like that for thousands of years but you still can't help yourself thinking it's going to end any minute.

Man, I'm not gonna lie. I want to keep my fancy digs, my jet, my beloved car collection and, yes, my lifestyle - even if it really isn't a life. Whoever has the most life wins, though. That's how I see the order of the world anymore. "Many who are first will be last and many who are last will be first." That all makes sense to me now. I'm at the top of the world, ma - and sweating out every single fricking day.

I just know I can't live in this world:

Irving 9

Irving 5

Irving 12

Irving 4

*Yes, I was asked to join the Texas Railroad Commission which regulates oil and gas despite its name. I actually do have an expansive understanding of the oil industry considering my father's background and from one point having to make a "good faith effort" to run the company. (It was in bad faith all along) Anyway, as you can probably guess, the TRC pretty much gives industry a free ride and, uh, railroads anyone who stands in their way, from landowners to even municipalities.



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