I am the root of all evil. I am the solution to poverty. I can make you dead, or alive. I have been placed in the vaults of important men, used for the purchase of a house, I have been used for the salvation of souls in purgatory, a child's first bike. I shape the lives of all I touch in an irrefutable way, irreversible change is what I represent, infinite connotation. I am inspiration and I am degradation, this is my existence, my identity. My dream, my drive to survive all this bullshit is to one day be used to feed the mouth of a hungry child. You'll see the daily crap I have to go through, with no control only an immense awareness and an impeccable memory, it is a blessing and a damnation at once. Simultaneous contradiction is my state of being. I once was crisp and clean, starched and bright, now I'm tattered and torn, dirty and worn yet my value is unchanging.
Federal Reserve Note
Piggy bank china
daphne 's press launch at people's palaceThis is my identity, my saga, and my drama.
I have existed for thousands of years with unerring significance and power. Currently an aspect of me, F36360810R, resides in the Donation Jar at 7/11. F36360810R will be telling you about his own life, in order for you to gain better insight into your own exploits, and debaucheries.
Little thought is given to the origins and adventures that a single Federal Reserve note has. I am F36360810R, but you may call me Bill. I am but a part in a much larger matrix, my importance is minimal but I am also the keystone of the whole operation. I'm staying at the fabulous Donation Jar at 7/11; it's a great place really much better than the last dump I stayed in. It is my dream to be used to feed somebody; I have been used for many other purposes but have never fed anyone. That's why I'm so excited to be in this jar, my intended final destination is Ethiopia where I will be used to save children from starvation.
You may be curious as to know why my dream is to feed a child. The reason is simple, there is nothing so pure, so simple, so direct, so necessary and genuine then the purpose of sustenance. A child is worth sustaining; no child under the age of seven has ever handled me and used me for evil. Piggy banks and candy, those are my fates when I am in a child's hands. One time an eight year old used me to purchase cigarettes, how I loathed that storeowner, but that is why I said seven and under. I feel like I have perpetuated too much wrongness in my existence, too many times I have been the instrument of malfeasants.
Don't get me wrong, I've supported families, helped causes, I even healed a dogs broken leg, for every two immoral uses there is one positive.
Once I reach my goal, my guilt will be expunged completely, Nirvana will be achieved, and some punk kid somewhere will light me on fire in order to smoke his blunt, that's how we get to that big Piggy Bank in the sky.
But in the mean time, I can watch people come and go, every time the cash register opens I like to sneak a voyeuristic look at the drawer.
There are some carbon copies of mine in here, tonight were going to have a poker night with fractions of us. Wait a second I don't like the look of this fellow, I've dealt with this type before, lanky, shifty eyed, complete with a ski mask-revolver accessories. Damnit who robs the donation jar, I mean cash drawers, safes; those are reasonable places, but my home? That's just immoral in all sorts of ways. But then again this wouldn't be the first time I was used for depraved purposes.
My god look at the rack on that girl! I love these bars, with all the smoke and strobe lights, the booze and broads. They all dance so nice, so lithe and rhythmic, oh yes its time for that pivotal moment, the closest I'll ever be to a woman at least in any sexual way. Nothings better then the feel of red sores on one side of me and the friction from satin on the other. It might not be fine Japanese dining but it certainly smells like sushi. Songs over and now I'm in the dressing room being counted and looking forward to going home and meeting the kids.
Ashley age 4, daughter of Daphne age 22, Daphne is an exotic dancer; she dances for cash in order to support her daughter and herself. She was considering an abortion but there were not enough of my carbon copies in her possession to prevent her fate. Now maybe I will be able to fulfill my wish, clearly Daphne knows of her daughters hunger, her need for sustenance and can sense my need to sustain. Apparently, not, after briefly acknowledging her daughter, she makes a beeline to the phone.
" Hey Tucker, you want to come over. I got some things to show youâ¦" says Daphne dulcetly into the receiver. Enter Tucker. As he approaches he pulls out a bag of white powder, and Daphne collects my comrades, and me and once again, I am in the hands of a sinister man. What does he think he's doing, rolling me up? No, not in front of Ashley's ravenous eyes, send her away, donAAAARRrGGHh it burns! Goddamn this angel dust, every time this happens I ache for weeks, I had just about shed the last trace amounts of it too. It's a little known fact that every one of my carbon copies has just a little coke on them. I'll never be able to be clean, be pure. How can I forgive the stains of shame that run deeper then my water mark anti-counterfeiting measure? Tucker, eh? Personal status: no family, nothing good can come out of this association I am quite sure. His nose is dirty and his skin is unhealthy. Well it turns out he's hungry, judging by his purposeful gait towards the nearest hot dog vendor, great I get to keep him from being hungry. Dirt bag deserves to eat me, but if he won't reprocessed pork by-products is close enough.
Ahmir Isahbaddhu age 47, occupation hot dog vendor. Three children and one of them meets' my specific age requirement. This guy sells food, its his livelihood, surely he sees the importance of feeding his own family.
Good vibes surround this Middle Easterner, the last time I was possessed by a middle easterner I was used for some plane ticket or something.
Going to the grocery store? Hot diggity dizamn this is it! My dream fulfilled, "life" long aspirations met, the climax of my existence, embodied in the food Baklava. The cashier looks to be about seventeenish, and smells a little like cannabis. Is that Dutch next to me in his pocket? Oh sweet absolution, how I welcome the pleasant sound of a Bic, the smoke from carcass mixing with the smoke of my Chiron, Mary. At long last a Piggy Bank with an insurance policy of biblical magnitudes, hammer-proof God guaranteed.
People used me and abused me; disregard me as petty and only 1/20th of my 3rd oldest brother. I am powerful; no matter my intended purpose, it is my fate to be handled by all walks of men, and women. I cannot be denied that, ever. Wash your hands, for you never know where your dollar has been. We carry with us the stains of human entrepreneurship; we are the cause the instrument, the problem and the solution. Try and sense each notes' needs', how it must be used in order for it to achieve its Nirvana, then spend it. Show a little compassion and empathy for the inanimate which shapes your life.