It’s all an illusion……


Money. The illusion. We attempt to mask the fact that isn’t really there by assigning little pieces of paper and round metal to represent it. Our attempt to justify the madness and absurdity of the very existence of the non-existent.

Life has become an eternal quest to fill the mirage of a never-ending pot of fools gold. A drug with a 4d hallucination, working its way through the veins of your life. Everything depending on your next fix. The next deposit into the bloodstream of your corporate vein network to ensure you survive. Breeding greed and corruption. Enough is never enough. Always looking for that next high. The next buzz.

The illusion that doesn’t cease, that won’t cease, until it is see through. Until the non-existent really doesn’t exist anymore. Only then will the damage that has been caused by this disease of mind monopoly begin to heal. How can we respect this man-made fantasy more than life itself? Why would we kill, get divorced, fall out with friends and loved ones for something that keeps us so trapped? So fearful? The side effect from the drug numbing the soul. The desire for more as the last injection has started to wear off.

To those that are infected with greed, their well will never be full. No matter how much they have. 10 houses, 2 cars and a boat would not quench the thirst of an addict. Like a junky, ready to lose everything and everyone in the name of vice. In the name of fantasy. One only has to look at the recent stock market crash, the very hub of the illusion. A matrix of figures flying through space. A game of fantasy.

At this moment in time, money is needed to survive. This is purely because of our collective mindset, the way the system is working. The more greed and selfishness there is, the harder it is to survive without money because the very thing that we are SUPPOSED  to survive on is gone. Love. Have you ever wondered why it is those that have money that are usually the most tight? It’s because they are afraid of losing it. The money has become part of their identity. Those that have little money generally tend to pull together as communities. One of the most beautiful things I experienced in London was the community gardens springing up throughout the poorest boroughs of the city, encouraging people to grow their own food, inviting residents to pick herbs for free, all with love.

We may have to live with this illusion but we need to start making it work for us. It can become a better dream for everybody rather than a nightmare. We can control the drug rather than IT controlling us. There is no need for £thousands in the bank, you might get run over by a bus tomorrow and then what good would it be?

Patrick and Trevor were brothers. Trevor had a great job in a bank. He went to the office 5 days a week, he ate in the best restaurants, had two cars and three houses and life was good for him. 

Patrick on the other and, was more a creative soul, he wrote poetry and played music. He lived in a little room in a poor area and he had a vegetarian diet most days. He was happy. 

One day Patrick’s landlord came to him and said that if he didn’t pay the outstanding rent he would be homeless. Outside the wind was howling and it was freezing. Patrick was worried. He never asked his brother for anything, knowing how hard he works for it but he had no choice. He did not want to freeze for the winter. 

He walked four miles in the icy weather. When he reached his brothers house, he was frozen. Trevor came to the door, a warm fire blazing from inside the house. ‘Patrick, my brother’ he cried come through. He brought his brother inside. Trevor did not seem to notice that his brother was frozen, that his clothes were worn and that he was thin with malnutrition. Trevor spoke about his work and how much money he had made for the bank and how he was looking at a promotion. 

Patrick listened carefully and felt pleased for his brother. He knew he worked hard and Patrick admired him. He could never sit in an office day after day like his brother. It would send him crazy. He needed to be free to create. He finally asked Trevor if he could lend him some money to pay his rent so that he could finish the paintings he had started. Trevor sat Patrick down and gave him a talk about how he should get a job and asking why is he putting so much time into creating these paintings? He said ‘patrick my brother, look at you, you can’t live. I can not lend you the money as I dont think that you can pay me back I’m sorry.’

And with that he walked his brother to the door and watched him walk out into the cold night. That night, he couldn’t sleep. His conscience began to attack him. He had the worst nights sleep in his life. He tossed and turned and he was overheating. The next morning Patrick’s landlord kicked him out  and as he was standing on the street in -10 degrees, a man approached him and said ‘Are you the brother of Trevor?’ When Patrick said yes the man said ‘I regret to inform you your brother had a crash this morning on the way to work and you are his only living relative therefore his next of kin and sole heir.’

Patrick picked up the little things he had and walked the four miles back to his brothers large house where he lived happily ever after, created masterpieces and helped poor children all over the world to continue believing in their creative talents. 

And Trevor?…….. Upon reaching the gates of heaven, he was asked if he had any regrets. ‘Yes, he said, I wish I had just given to my brother to help him. It would have made him happy and my last night on earth wouldn’t have been such inner torture.’

Trevor could have helped his brother a long time before he asked but he was too wrapped up in his selfish and corporately inhumane mindset. There are little things that everyone can change for other people. But it all starts with changing the way that we think about things and the illusions we choose to believe in.




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