financial success by getting used to the taste of corporate cum
I cannot express how much I love my job. Why androids to not dream of electric sheep is simple. We don't sleep. I'm operating with full resources right now. I haven't been feeling well the past week or so probably because I have had some sort of system virus. I will say that my connection with the machine world is greater than I previously thought.
I reconstructed an otherwise dead system today by sequentially replacing components until the unit functioned correctly. I socialized with my business partners and then stumbled across the most glorious livejournal I've seen in a long time. alythatgirl has such a spiffy livejournal (not to mention website). I give her kudos for her design AND photography.
Now being a robot limits my use of apparel, but I have always had an eye for fashion and seem to know what looks good on someone and what doesn't. Watch out world because this girl knows her stuff. I can't seem to praise her choice of lighting and exemplary taste in clothing enough. She inspires me to get out there and keep firing off my shutter. Which brings up another topic.
I have never claimed that I am wealthy, I'm by far NOT the type of person that can afford to go out and drop several grand on computer equipment, vehicles, or "bangin' threads". I wear clothes I've had for 2 years. I bleach my hair with the cheapest stuff I can find and I always have clothes that are too big for me (just because I can't find anything that fits me because I'm a lil guy). But I've always gotten by.
Pretty much every relative I have is happy financially. My father makes no money and is homeless. My stepmom thinks he's rich. My Stepfather doesn't make as much as he should and my mom doesn't really work anymore.
Then there's my uncle who showed me his bank statement after the horribly unexpected death of his wife due to a brain aneurism. He's financially stable, but still works his posterier off at the furniture store that my grandpa started almost 30 years ago. My aunt manages that store and she has a house at the beach that she doesn't even live at. My grandparents sold the business in full to my aunt and uncle about 10 years ago and they have since paid off the loan. So when my Opa retired 10 years ago and sold the business for a hefty sum and kept a lot of it invested in property and vehicles, he kept getting his paycheck from uncle sam for being in the navy 34 years...
The land which is still owned by my Opa is valued at something like 2 million dollars for 4 acres because it's in one of the largest growing areas of Jacksonville on a major highway. When I think about it I'm amazed that I still lived off less than ten thousand dollars last year. But that's just the way I am. Resourceful. I currently live in a modular home which is commercially zoned in a small town outside Jacksonville owned by another uncle who does hotel renovation. He hired his son (my cousin) who makes more money than I care to think about just because he's handy with construction type jobs.
Bottom line is that I think about people that are just born into extreme wealth and whether or not they ever think about what it would be like to have such a passion for knowledge that they would give anything to have an expendable income. I imagine myself in a loft in some uptown location being able to wake up, grab a bite to eat at a cafe and carry my mini sized macintosh computer around typing out all my ideas and having witty conversations with nearly flawless women who think that everything I say is witty and charming and getting calls on my nokia picture phone and planning to fly to New York or LA this weekend to go to a party with famous people that don't really know me, but I go for the free beer.
The sad thing is, when I'm that person, I don't think about the real me that's sitting in a trailor in the outskirts of a city, smoking cheap cigarettes and drinking water that takes like a rusty iron bar from a well that barely works. When I'm that other guy, I don't consider that my ideas will never be heard or that my mark on the world will not be left because I have enough money to do as I please. Meanwhile, the other me is lonely and wonders if he'll ever be understood and hopes that one day, maybe long after he's dead, someone will stumble across a poem or song that he wrote and be touched by it so much so that they tell a friend and that minute mark will somehow change the world later on down the line.
Now I could become overwhelmed with greed and work extremely hard and borrow money and invest and sell my soul to the corperate, capitalist driven, ideals that our society has grown so fond of. I could do anything to make an extra buck and use my above average intelligence to outwit and extort money from various sources here and there, but then I would be getting on my knees and servicing "the big green" that turns some people (mind you, not all people that have disposable incomes are bad) into fanatical thrill seeking pseudophilanthropists pretending that they are actually contributing to society rather than setting a poor example by valuing money above knowledge.
Thanks, but no thanks. I think I'll be satisfied by what I have and be thankful for anything above that... and who knows, maybe one day one of my rich celebrity crushes will see my journal and it will touch their heart and they will be my sugar mama. I guess I should power down for a few millicycles seeing as how I do have to earn my keep by servicing computers tomorrow. Hope everyone has pleasant dreams of small robots with big hearts.
I reconstructed an otherwise dead system today by sequentially replacing components until the unit functioned correctly. I socialized with my business partners and then stumbled across the most glorious livejournal I've seen in a long time. alythatgirl has such a spiffy livejournal (not to mention website). I give her kudos for her design AND photography.
Now being a robot limits my use of apparel, but I have always had an eye for fashion and seem to know what looks good on someone and what doesn't. Watch out world because this girl knows her stuff. I can't seem to praise her choice of lighting and exemplary taste in clothing enough. She inspires me to get out there and keep firing off my shutter. Which brings up another topic.
I have never claimed that I am wealthy, I'm by far NOT the type of person that can afford to go out and drop several grand on computer equipment, vehicles, or "bangin' threads". I wear clothes I've had for 2 years. I bleach my hair with the cheapest stuff I can find and I always have clothes that are too big for me (just because I can't find anything that fits me because I'm a lil guy). But I've always gotten by.
Pretty much every relative I have is happy financially. My father makes no money and is homeless. My stepmom thinks he's rich. My Stepfather doesn't make as much as he should and my mom doesn't really work anymore.
Then there's my uncle who showed me his bank statement after the horribly unexpected death of his wife due to a brain aneurism. He's financially stable, but still works his posterier off at the furniture store that my grandpa started almost 30 years ago. My aunt manages that store and she has a house at the beach that she doesn't even live at. My grandparents sold the business in full to my aunt and uncle about 10 years ago and they have since paid off the loan. So when my Opa retired 10 years ago and sold the business for a hefty sum and kept a lot of it invested in property and vehicles, he kept getting his paycheck from uncle sam for being in the navy 34 years...
The land which is still owned by my Opa is valued at something like 2 million dollars for 4 acres because it's in one of the largest growing areas of Jacksonville on a major highway. When I think about it I'm amazed that I still lived off less than ten thousand dollars last year. But that's just the way I am. Resourceful. I currently live in a modular home which is commercially zoned in a small town outside Jacksonville owned by another uncle who does hotel renovation. He hired his son (my cousin) who makes more money than I care to think about just because he's handy with construction type jobs.
Bottom line is that I think about people that are just born into extreme wealth and whether or not they ever think about what it would be like to have such a passion for knowledge that they would give anything to have an expendable income. I imagine myself in a loft in some uptown location being able to wake up, grab a bite to eat at a cafe and carry my mini sized macintosh computer around typing out all my ideas and having witty conversations with nearly flawless women who think that everything I say is witty and charming and getting calls on my nokia picture phone and planning to fly to New York or LA this weekend to go to a party with famous people that don't really know me, but I go for the free beer.
The sad thing is, when I'm that person, I don't think about the real me that's sitting in a trailor in the outskirts of a city, smoking cheap cigarettes and drinking water that takes like a rusty iron bar from a well that barely works. When I'm that other guy, I don't consider that my ideas will never be heard or that my mark on the world will not be left because I have enough money to do as I please. Meanwhile, the other me is lonely and wonders if he'll ever be understood and hopes that one day, maybe long after he's dead, someone will stumble across a poem or song that he wrote and be touched by it so much so that they tell a friend and that minute mark will somehow change the world later on down the line.
Now I could become overwhelmed with greed and work extremely hard and borrow money and invest and sell my soul to the corperate, capitalist driven, ideals that our society has grown so fond of. I could do anything to make an extra buck and use my above average intelligence to outwit and extort money from various sources here and there, but then I would be getting on my knees and servicing "the big green" that turns some people (mind you, not all people that have disposable incomes are bad) into fanatical thrill seeking pseudophilanthropists pretending that they are actually contributing to society rather than setting a poor example by valuing money above knowledge.
Thanks, but no thanks. I think I'll be satisfied by what I have and be thankful for anything above that... and who knows, maybe one day one of my rich celebrity crushes will see my journal and it will touch their heart and they will be my sugar mama. I guess I should power down for a few millicycles seeing as how I do have to earn my keep by servicing computers tomorrow. Hope everyone has pleasant dreams of small robots with big hearts.