Sam Wellick
Guest Poet
Despite common misbelief, I assure you money matters. Every cent of it. Some learn this sooner than others. There comes a point in time where that hopeful reality will all come crashing down, hospital bills, tuition and a recession will surely cause you depression. I remember as a kid, a trip to the grocery store was a strict budgeted venture full of mystery on how ends would meet. Money is just a matter of survival; we all are plagued with debt. Conglomerates loom over us all, monetary monsters who are kings of this age. Greed is relatable, knowing currency can win you anything, a presidency or a fight with cancer. Life is the disease, and money is the cure. Morals go out the window when considering a 401k package. In a sea of variables, money is the only constant. In the end, we all die in poverty. Its unpreventable in this society if you can’t make money or spend large quantities, your importance is limited. Capitol Hill should be renamed to Currency Hill. There is hardly any difference between large conglomerates and organized crime; they would both consider themselves venture capitalists. People are things, make no mistake, they’re on a round track for other things. Being a poor kid will always make you bitter. I am not proposing some wildly liberal agenda, just giving you a rundown of this monopoly game of life and death. Be like Rockefeller, J.P. Morgan and Henry Ford. Buy up New York Avenue and St. James Place and hope people pay their dues. No one ever became a millionaire by playing by the rules of the game. Money shouldn’t matter, people should matter. Until that moment hang on to your monopoly money; after all, it can buy you anything in the world.