Would I share my wealth and good fortune or be consumed with gluttony?
Would I exude generosity and share all that I had, or leave my leftovers for those less fortunate?
Would I justify treating myself often, convincing myself that I needed this or that?
Would I trade in my Nissan for an Aston Martin, JC Penney suit for a designer one, and sneakers for high-end loafers?
Would I give more than I received, and have it in me to still hold tight to my values?
Or would I forget them, and let my heart be corrupted with selfish ways?
If I won the lottery, where would the money go?
Sure, pay off my student loans, and debt to my parents, and then put the rest away.
But for what -- to make more money? Is it planning ahead or being selfish?
Sometimes I envision an easier life without money. I understand why you cannot give a homeless man the world and expect him to learn what to do with it.
Because living without is easier than living with. Things are simpler.
Life is simpler.
You are not a subject of jealousy, you are not hated for your fortune.
If I became a billionaire, I could help so many in need.
Despite countless charitable donations, I would still have so much left over --
Does that make me a generous man? Or a stingy wealthy man?
Is it about percentage? After all, is a small donation coming from a large pool really self-sacrifice?
Where is the line? The line between poverty and suffering versus comfort and fortune?
When does pity turn to equality turn to jealousy?
Do we hate because we desire and covet?
Or are we frustrated with our lack of skill, education, luck, success?
If only we had that one chance, that one break, that one winning ticket.
Would we be changed for the better, or suffer having known what we could have been?
I fear my internal wiring would be rearranged, with delusions of grandeur and an obsession for status,
tearing me limb from limb, rotting me to the core until there is simply nothing left.