Came no church of cut stone signed — Hair Shirt Chronicles

To walk in money through the night crowd, protected by money, lulled by money, dulled by money, the crowd itself a money, the breath money, no least single object anywhere that is not money, money, money everywhere and still not enough, and then no money, or a little money or less money or more money, but money, always money, and if you have money or don't have money it is the money that counts and money makes money, but what makes money make money?

atropic but not atopic from H miller

There is a wealthy man in my modest anonymous third tier burg who must be mid 8 figures if not 9 figures and probably liquid to boot and resides somewhere on the spectrum with dwarfism and small dick energy. Quite good at making money, but repulsive in its social media display. And oblivious, in a characteristically autistic, archetypal oblivious way, to the aggregating cringe effect that comes from posting screen snips of a W2, a Lambo, a Rolex - all the accoutrements of new flash and the clingy tasteless gauche. And whether from envy or a faux sense of having better hypothetical sense on what to hypothetically splurge, it is a reflex to lampoon and lambast him in the text thread, as though the flaw is lacking a tighter compass upon which to rely in setting a conspicuous consumption course. And why I care enough to care at all is its own indictment, obviously. Ah but worrying changes nothing and you can’t help but arm critique with the unintended consequences of your neuroses and be afflicted by their abnegating acuity at the same time. Just the way it is