Member-only story
UBI, Dreams and things.
A Meditation on UBI — slightly edited reprint from Patreon.
I daydream about being a billionaire sometimes. I dream about sitting in a fortress somewhere cozy at 4 AM and I can’t sleep, so I get online and find them. What them? Who them? They are the poor folks needing teeth, food, tuition, living expenses, the random tweeters who ask for someone to please buy them a burrito because they are sad, all of them. I don’t understand the real-world financial ramifications at all and I don’t care. When I think of all the need, I just want to fix it. Right now. When I’m at work and more demoralized than usual, I dream about the heights I could reach with billionaire money.
Oh, you want some gender affirming butt shots, yes here. Hi stranger, you are in dire need of the whole newest Fenty release? Beat that face baby, here you go. I take comfort in the idea of being that person and being invisible. I’ve thought about this for many years, I’ve questioned myself to no end because I was not raised to ever even think about such a thing. I was taught that if you lacked something and didn’t earn it, it is your fault. And I don’t believe that, I don’t endorse it and I think it is particularly disgusting when presented as some sort of moral win to “overcome”.
I started to see the rift in my upbringing when I was about 12 years old. Like most Americans I went to…
