Stuff I like part 35 What’s the point

This is the factory. We work here. Hell, we live here. On the other side is where our families live, but we only go there to sleep. Now there are lots of factories in Mammonopolis. But this one’s especially important: here we make the parts for more factories. The sounds are too loud for a man to bear, so we stop hearing them. The hazards are too great for a man to consider, so we ignore them. And after hours, bed is still a gruelling trip away. We are only allowed on the path to work and from work. To work. From work. To work. From… . Then one day you wake up and you are 65. Then you ask yourself how many of the dreams of your youth have you lived? When the answer does not gel with what you want it to be, you justify your loss with: but everybody goes to the factory, everybody needs to go to the factory, cos everybody needs a nice car and a nice house, and nice stuff to fill the nice house with. I know a man who has more money than he has years left to spend it all, you arrive in the morning, there he is, you leave in the evening, there he is, I ask myself, what’s the point? His family gets to see him by appointment or invitation only, I ask myself, what’s the point? I know people with houses that’s wings they have not been in for years, they have cars in their garages they have not driven in decades, I ask myself what’s the point? They have priceless art, jewelry and artifacts in safety deposit boxes which are viewed/worn on rare occasions, I ask myself, what’s the point? They have holiday homes they frequent once ot twice a year, that stand vacant 99% of the time, I ask myself, what’s the point? It’s not only the wealthy though, that are guilty. The middle class and poor are just as guilty of liking nice things. But what’s the point? If you do an analysis, and deduct the amount of hours you spend sleeping at your house from the total time spent there, you will find that to be able to enjoy your nice home and the nice stuff inside it, you are left with the least amount of time to do so. So, what’s the point? I really hope I don’t wake up one day at 65 and find myself needing to justify why I never achieved the dreams of my youth. Cos now I have it in writing that I have warned myself well in advance. So please people, don’t let things control you, it’s much nicer when you control them. Live your dreams, and if they cost money, good luck.