Nothing.

Yeah well nothing felt right.

I kept working and breathing and waking and sleeping and nothing felt right. Eight hour days. Ten hour days. Fifteen hour days. Sometimes my paychecks were good and sometimes they were better but when they were good I needed to spend most of it on something and when they were better I needed to spend all of it on something. I never got ahead and I never saved, no matter what I did. 

Up until a year or so ago, I never worried about money, I never cared. But now I did. Now I do. I wasn't sure what I was saving it for. Retirement, maybe. A vacation maybe. An emergency maybe. All things that really meant nothing. I would die before I retired. I knew it. I'd never have time for a vacation. I knew it. Every day is an emergency. I know it. The harder I work, the more empty my wallet seems.

When I was younger I worked a little and scraped by and people would tell me to worry but I wouldn't and sometimes I could eat and sometimes I could pay my bills and sometimes I would and I wouldn't spend it all on pot or whiskey or records or give it away to my friends. Sometimes I could chip in on a pizza and I never fucking worried. Money was never a concern. I had none. I had none and I wanted none. Twenty something me saw money as only a burden and he was right. 

Surround myself in the moneyless and the hopeless and the futureless and am I still happy forever? Can I still dream then? Can I still live then? Can I still hold my goddamned head high and believe I am right? Know I am right?

I don't want a house. I don't want things. I don't want a boat or a new car off the lot or a timeshare or status or respect because my bank account demands it. I don't want the worry or hope or plans or dominion. I want nothing. Nothing feels right.