Money. I am a bill. I am a piece of paper that people adore. I am adored. I am wanted. I am desired like no woman is; I am craved for like no feast. There is nothing more powerful than me and there is nothing more powerless than me. If there were no homo sapiens around I would only lie here and decompose. I can not reproduce. For this I depend on humanity, those who think they must cater to me, when I am the one dependant on them. I know nothing. I am traded like a child’s cards. I am helpless and I am used to make others helpless by my absence.

Money. I have ethnicity and I have religion. I have politics and I have murder. I change the world overnight but I know none of what I do. I lie silent while others do the lying for me. I would not lie to you. I am an honest bill. I am a bill made of plastics and paper; sometimes I rustle in a bag with my brothers and sisters, metal and coin. We rustle in the breeze and pass our days passing hands. It is a constant trip from one land to the next; we are world travelers who know nothing of the world. We are kept ignorant for I’m sure we’d do something if we just knew how.


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