1 Day 0000 hour 00 - Being Poor

"Being poor is a mindset and once one relinquishes those ideals, they will find themselves in the abundance of wealth."

As I read that statement for the third time, only two words settled in response to it: Bull Crap. Normally I would gently set down a book but this time, this specific literature requires a special toss into the garbage bin. If a mental state is all that it took to accomplish exiting the "status" of poverty, would it not have already been eradicated?

After the priceless book found its way into a corner of my room, I glanced at my rented apartment in hopes that I could have woken up from a dream or even better, I was now wealthy enough to move from the small space that was encompassed by four walls.

I could see the futon that lay in my living room which was three steps away from the kitchen which was a couple of steps from the bathroom. The walls were so thin that I could hear the animals in the alleyway clearly. My neighbours, which seemed more like noisy roommates, were trying to whisper to one another so that no one else heard them. The problem was that whispering did not really lower my abilty to hear them. Surprisingly though, the chatter from the different floors of the building and outside were doing a better job at canceling out the noise.

"Aaagg!" I attempted to stretch my agitation away to no avail. I was neither sore nor bored. I was just tired of the many attempts to increase my net worth. Currently, I own nothing and my bank statement will show that I owe them money. With my best guess, I persume my net worth is possibly in the negative.

My parents passed away when I was about 11 years old and I have been living on my own for 9 years now. Being the only child and not having an inheritance was not part of the positive list either. I did not complete any schooling and sold my last piece of furniture to pay for the next two months of rent. I have exactly enough to feed myself for 3 weeks. Which was actually better than most days.

If there was a silver lining, it was that I lived alone and did not need to share the space with anyone else. Though a robber would find it easier to get through the wall than the door, this small space is where I called home. It was safe but always felt temporary.

I am now at the height of the entrepreneurial curve that comes on average fours times a year. I did not have to worry about the necessities and could solely focus on making money to push the date of my inevitable end a bit forward.

"How should I make money this time?" I thought as I pulled out a piece of paper. This paper was more valuable than anything I possessed combined. It represented the pleasant times before the death of my parents. My father would leave early in the morning not knowing what he would bring back at the end of the day. He would stop by, have lunch with us, hand my mother some cash and leave with the same energy he had in the morning.

My father would always baffle me since I have never seen him sick, ill or even tired before he came home late at night. Everyday, I would find a boundless energy surging through him that put an endless smile on my mother's face. But as I got older, those memories kept feeling stranger and more unreal. Throughout the years, I got tired, sick, injured and even unconscious.

If my father was a human being, did that mean that I did not gain his wondrous genes. I guess it is just another inheritance that was not mine.

This piece of paper had the many ideas I would right down during my free time. They were the creative ways to make money and help my parents when the time came. I had even shown it to them during lunch and my fondest memory is their reaction:

"One of those ideas will make you a man amongst men." My mother loveingly said as she passed the paper to my father. He smiled then continued to add, "Hold it close. We look forward to celebrating your success together."

Without realising it, tears were running down my cheek. My parents did not flatter me unjustly and spoke the truth in a way that aroused my passion for success. My dreams, that were approved of, were on this paper.