Recently I’ve been developing a serial killer story of a deeply mysterious driver of a 40s/50s truck reminiscent of Duel and Jeepers Creepers (except my killer is human).
I have this vivid picture in my mind framed perfectly. There are two attractive women friends in their later twenties/early thirties and they’re walking out of an older house with a wide front porch that goes around the side in southern Indiana. There is a lot of shade from large deciduous and pines with a front yard leading to a few steps down to the sidewalk on the street. It’s the late evening and fog fills the area with no other people around and no sound. Directly across the street is the 40s/50s truck parked with dark grease/grime covering the windows and the interior cabin. and inexplicably tall battered wooden power lines tower over the sidewalk casting lines of shadow over the truck.
My point is that I was watching Shark Tank and one of the sharks said “He lives in a twenty bedroom house on a cliff.” Talking about one of the other sharks and then that shark smiled. These people have endless physical wealth except do they have a vivid imagination like I do? That’s not something that you can buy and it adds an extreme amount of value to my life. I will go a far to say that it has more value over any other one thing that a person can be good at.
These people on Shark Tank for example Mark Cuban truly think they are living the best possible life with all their physical wealth earned. He can go anywhere in the world whenever he wants as much as he wants.
Except he’s not even at the first gate in a series of gates that lead to a great imagination which can go beyond reality and Earth.
Am I living a better life than Mark Cuban? A billionaire?
That is to say, who knows what their private mind is like? A lot of people are really that shallow, but many aren’t. Plus on the flip side, many artists are probably only going through the motions for the money.
Although “society” looks at rich people as being successful, a rich man doesn’t have <insert preferred quality here> therefore I’m actually the truly successful person.
Seems like there is a lot of envy in that sentiment.
“Bad books on writing and thoughtless English professors solemnly tell beginners to Write What You Know, which explains why so many mediocre novels are about English professors contemplating adultery.”
— Joe Haldeman
Being a billionaire requires a lot of motivation in most cases. Being motivated can also be traced back to being happy. Billionaires also receive more than their share of validation and acceptance, which are also commonly linked to happiness. But I agree 100% that happiness is not exclusive the rich. My imagination is my ticket to happiness, it entertains me, motivates me, validates me and gives me access to positive influences in my life. If it never gets and better than it is now I have no problem.