Money is stupid

 

I hate how money is destroying everything great on this planet. Everything must make money; otherwise, it is pointless. Such a stupid thing to say. Not everything must make money. We are supposed to make our lives better, not our wallets.

If we just decided to spend money on things that would make our lives better, who cares how much we lose on it? If we could make houses and food cheaper, who cares how much the state loses? They are already losing money on stupid things like sending it to other countries or on expensive contracts that could sometimes cost half as much.

Why do we have to work until we die, so we can spend 1/7 of our lives doing what we actually want? Work so our boss makes a profit, and we never see any of it. We just get poorer and more depressed. Why chase money when we should chase happiness?

The idea that “money will make you happy” or that “money will never make you happy” is a stupid argument. Because you want to be happy and for most people, you need money for that. You don’t want to chase money; you want to chase what makes you happy.

Money will never make you truly happy if you don’t know what you want, and knowing what you want will never make you happy if you don’t have money. For some evil reason, you need both, and I hate that. Maybe you don’t need that much, but you still need it.

Search for meaning, and only after that you can chase money because then you will know how much you really need. If you chase money first, you just chase meaning and never find it.

The world spins around money, but you don’t have to spin around money.

Letters to Whoever Reads

 What am I doing with my life? I am lost, I don’t know what to do.

Wandering if this is the right path. Wandering if my dream is worth it.
Endless spirals of sadness and motivation fighting over who will be in charge.

Each day, I want to learn how to write and follow my dream.
How can I overcome something I can’t even touch?
I want to try at least before I enter emptiness.

Pushing forward even when my mind is telling me to run and give up.
Learning to read and write every day.
Improving my skills myself and fighting the silent voice that tells me it’s garbage and pointless.
Following my daily routine just to stay sane.

Trying to keep myself motivated in a world where every action is judged.
Every dream is seen as foolish.
Every achievement is criticized.

Dreaming of being free from this, not being trapped in a pointless cycle of chasing money instead of my dream.
I am more afraid of giving up than of failing — afraid of never fulfilling my dream.
And that’s what drives me crazy every day without a break.
I want a break, peace, a moment of silence.

I don’t even know why I am writing this; no one will read this.
But I have to write about my feelings; otherwise, I don’t know what to write about for my blog.

If you read this, thank you.
Keep struggling in this world. Maybe one of us will achieve what we want.
Maybe we both will

The Spectators - Crimson Pact

 Crimson Pact

The smell of fallen blood, with echoes of the past, hung over a sea of crimson. In the middle, a single man knelt. He knelt, his sword next to him, shaking as he stared at the reddish night sky. They say a blood moon means only one thing: the blood of a million souls. “Curse you, this is not what I meant. You promised, if I do as you said,you would help me,” the man said. Only silence and a weak, cold wind answered his question. “You won. You broke me. I hope you are enjoying this,” he looked into the ocean of blood, staring at his own reflection. He saw only the Monster that killed everyone.

“Let’s make another deal—you’ll like this,” the man said, and a cold breeze sped up, hovered above him, and sang an answer to him. His body shook when he heard it.

“Did you learn nothing? Look what you have done,” the second man said, standing far from him.

He laughed. “This is what you meant, very well. His soul for my torment,” he said, and stood up, tightening his grip on the sword.

“Do you think this is funny? Look at what your actions did to this kingdom. You had everything here. Why risk everything by dealing with demigods? Everyone knows they don’t care about us.” He took out his sword, pointing to the Monster and his former friend.

“Does it even matter? It's not like they will come back. I made a mistake. Do you think I don’t regret it?” He looked up at the red sky. A single drop of water fell to the bloody sea from his eye.

“You really don’t care, boy, do you. You are the Monster. I have always seen the darkness in you. Even when we were drunk together, I sensed it.”

“I don’t care? I cared too much. I came to you for help, to every healer in this kingdom. Everyone was busy or refused to help me. You refused to help me. It was a curable illness if you just helped. To cure her blood curse, healers could have removed the weak blood and stopped her body from consuming itself. Wouldn’t you do the same to save a loved one?”

“You betrayed a kingdom for a child?”

“Child? She was everything to me. You knew it and still refused to help. Only one who promised help was a demigod. Only one.” Laughter echoed in the wind, and his words were lost to the sea.

“I would help you if you...”

“Shut up. I tried three times. Three times.”

“I will not apologise to you; there is no justification for what you have done. You will pay for this.”

“Shut up already and get this over with,"

The Monster used his elemental magic, creating a small wind whirlpool and sending it in the Knight's direction. Blood flew everywhere, blocking the view. The Knight dodged to the side, cold red liquid touched his skin, and he used his magic to freeze a good chunk of the crimson sea. Drawing a lot of his strength into his magic attacks in the hope of a quick end to the Monster. The Monster's feet stuck in the scarlet mirror, reflecting his dull face. The Knight with frozen feet slid to the Monster, trying to strike. Sending a powerful flash of light into the frozen sea, blinding the Monster. The Monster recovered just in time from the flash and blocked the blow, unable to move; he just watched as the man slid behind him. As the man charged at him, he created a platform beneath him, pushing him six feet up and shattering the scarlet mirror beneath him. The Knight stopped his charge and instead used his magic to create bloody ice daggers from the sea, throwing them at the Monster. He deflected them with his wind magic, but one struck his arm. The Monster summoned earth spikes from underground, trying to pierce the Knight. He dodged every spike and awaited a chance to counterattack.

“You think you can win this fight?” the Monster said, looking down at him. His arm slowly healed.

“You´ll never learn. Making deals with them again? Are you blind? Don´t you see what you did?”

Don´t you see what you did? The Knight thought. He wondered if he could do something to prevent this and save them all. This Monster always seems wicked to him, and now he had proof. Always pleaded for help with no accountability. Couldn´t even take care of his daughter. He gathered his strength and sent a large ice ball into the Monster's tower. His healing ability made him worried. What kind of deal had he made, but there was no time to think about it; he needed to find out for himself. Impact shattered the Monster's high ground, forcing him to jump down. The Knight fled to him, striking, but the Monster blocked it with the sword. The Knight sent a flash of light in his direction, blinding the Monster and trying to pierce him, but the Monster dodged to the side. Both were breathing heavily, wondering why it had happened this way. What if the Knight helps her? Would he still make the deal? Could he really help him, or was it inevitable? Does it really matter that there is no way to change the past? He would do anything to bring them back; so would they both. The Knight sent flash after flash at him, blinding him nonstop and bringing him to the brink of his strength. The Monster, with all his strength, pushed the ground out of the earth in every direction and hit the Knight.  Both were exhausted from using too much magic. The Knight sent a freezing wave in his direction with the last bit of his strength, freezing  half of the Monster's body in a bloody mirror. Unable to move, the Monster watched as the Knight trudged to him. The Monster smiled. “You can’t win. Didn’t you figure out what kind of deal I made?”

The Knight approached him, stared into his eyes, and pierced his heart. The Monster spat out blood. The Knight fell on his knees and looked down. Tears dropped to the ground, and his mind was swamped by memories of his friends, his family. It’s over. I avenged them,” the Knight thought. Finally, they will have peace. He looked up at the blood moon, trying to figure out what to do next. Was there any purpose to his life? Is there a way to start again? He tried to stand up, but his body refused to obey. The sound of cracked ice faded into his ears; his eyes widened, and he understood he had failed in his revenge. Something beneath him hit him, and he was in the air, flying, and fell. Lying on the ground, he spat out blood, eyeing the Monster's direction in his crimson mirror prison. He watched a large earth cube come out beneath the Monster, which shattered his prison, and thousands of crimson, glassy shards flew away. Exhausted, the Monster stood up with the sword inside him. “I told you. You cannot win”

“Why... Why won’t you just die?” the Knight moaned.

The Monster looked down at him with a gloomy look and said, “Death is mercy for me. I didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve me.”

The Knight chuckled and spat out more blood. “Just finish me.”

“What is one more soul in my torment... I am sorry. Tell them, please.”

The sharp earth spike came out of the bloody sea, piercing his heart, and the last thing he heard was a haunted laugh from the sky.

The Spectators

 There was a mortal man who ruled a small snowy kingdom in the mountains. It consisted of merely a couple of villages and a castle. This was before Lower Elemental magic came to this world. I met him a couple of times before the tragedy. At that time, he was serving as king and worshipped a lesser demigod whose name I don’t recall. The people also worshipped her, and in return, she promised them protection. Each year, there was a feast in honour of the demigod at the king's wooden keep. The great smell of fried meat always covered the whole village. They danced, ate, and sang in her honour. Then, one cloudy day, the enemy attacked their castle. They hoped for her help, but she did not come. During the attack, he fought to the end, hoping she was just testing them, to protect his family above all. He charged at the enemy with his last men. It was a bloody fight, but he managed to push them away. The smell of burning meat reached his nose; he rushed back to his family, only to see his family slaughtered and burned.  His faith was shattered that day, along with his will to live. He left everyone behind and went to confront the demigod. It was a demigod who told him not to raise and train an army. They didn´t need one, she told them. Only his wife tried to convince him to do so—to be independent. She was always suspicious of the demigod, but he believed in them.

I was there, chatting with the lesser demigod in this icy glass room with a pond of pure water in the middle, when he stormed in like a hurricane.  He argued with her, demanding answers. Why did she do nothing? Why did she break her promise? She had silver hair, an ice-blueish body, and an indifferent expression. She answered with a cold voice, “If you cannot even protect a small rock, why should I help a weakling?”. His face reddened, and he couldn´t believe her words. He attacked her and pierced her with his sword. He screamed his wife's name with a soft, cracking voice. The walls cracked, and the pond became dark. A strong, cold wind came out of the room, extinguishing all the light inside. Maybe she thought she was invincible, maybe she just believed no mortal could touch her. I don´t know, but I do know that he took his revenge on her, and her magic went inside him. In that moment, a mortal man died and became the first common magic user. I hid, not because I was afraid, but because I wanted to see what this person would become. I knew my master would like to see this. A good story is hard to find after all. With the eye of the god, I watched closely.

With his new powers, he destroyed the attacker's kingdom alone. Burnt it to the ground, killed every soldier he found. Proclaimed himself as the Emperor of his new Empire,later known as the First Empire. His enemies gave up when they saw his banner. There was no chance of defence against his iron-melting fires. He conquered most of the known world — not because he had to, but because he wished to, driven by a single purpose: the hunt for demigods. Hunting them and killing them, enjoying every death of their kind. Not because of revenge or hatred, but because he couldn´t stand false gods. He was not a tyrant, only to his enemies.  People were well fed and had stability, and crimes were heavily punished. Kingdoms overthrew their kings just to join his empire, not out of fear but out of prosperity. Beloved by all, hated by no one; even enemies didn´t hate him —they respected him. His mortal body couldn´t withstand that much magic for long; even gods die eventually, and at the age of 1,183, he died of old age. From his body, common magic burst out, getting inside tens of thousands of people, and the age of lower elemental magic began. With no successor to take over from him, his Empire collapsed in just 3 years. Mortals couldn´t handle so much power, and instead of using it for good, they used it as a tool of destruction. Once, loyal kingdoms rebelled for power, and 100 years of terror, war, and destruction began. After his death, they worshipped him as a god who had given them his power or as a devil who brought destruction to their world. Elements are wild weapons in mortal hands, and only a few can fully control them. Fire, Ice, Earth, Water, Dark, Lightning, Air, and Light gave thousands of people the illusion that they were the next emperor. Lower Elemental magic is easy to learn and hard to master. Playing with Elements is dangerous and can easily get out of control.

Damnation

 Forgive my sin. But I loathe him; I did something terrible for a short moment of glory and applause for trying. I... I killed the traitor. Because of him, she died. My love, she resisted, not like me. I was scared. I still am. She didn’t want to give up our country willingly, and I lost her and did nothing. Everyone I knew just watched except her. Killing him makes me relieved. He thought selling our nation would keep him safe; maybe this will change things. Maybe I doomed my family by resisting. Because I want to be free. Free to make my own choices.  He deserves hell, and I hope we will meet there so I can tell him it was me who sent him there early. We could defend ourselves and survive, but our leader only wanted money and more power. Letting their armies in and commanding us to do nothing. Before we realised what was happening, they won without trying. They already knew who to get rid of when they came. Executing our leaders. This bastard knew he would lose the next election, so he would rather sell all of us to our foe than lose. Since his betrayal, they took our resources, our pride, our spirit. Everyone was forced to give them everything of value. We went from prosperity to owning nothing. We cannot own houses or cars. We own nothing and must be happy working for them. They act like they are better than us. They kill everyone who speaks up or doesn´t follow their orders. They mock us. Humiliating us every day. “Die for our future.” They don´t even try to hide it anymore. I think they will avenge his death, make an example of me, and I am afraid they will make an example of my family, too. I hope my death will start something and not end our desire for freedom. Maybe killing the person who started it will end it. Sorry, everyone—you will suffer for my actions, and I am too afraid to face the consequences. I am a selfish coward, just like when they came. The only thing different is that I am brave enough to avenge her. Can I go to heaven for murder, even if it’s deserved, or is there no justification? I wish to know if I changed something in this nation. I will never know. I am tired. I need to rest. The world is getting darker. I just need to close my eyes.  Don’t give up like I did. Forgive me for letting you down, my love, but I know you would have done the same.

Skeptocrat

 A trillion people annihilated so we can live in peace, they say, against an enemy so vile and hated that we erased every trace—every whisper of them. And yet, how do we know it even happened? Twenty-three solar systems were vanquished and reduced to dust by them. Earth was completely destroyed. Even after 1,380 years, it remained untouched as the only memory. The only monument in the entire commonwealth was built there as a memorial to this war. “Rebuild, Recreate, Rejoice” is a slogan meant to motivate us. How can anyone believe this crap? No mention of this enemy, not even one photo. Only wasteland and one big tower, three kilometers high, a tower as a monument built from the last building left standing. Something happened 1,380 years ago; we’re not allowed to know. Did they win? Did they erase them from history, so we don’t even know if we lost, or if it even happened? Maybe there was no enemy at all, and someone took over the world and ruled from the shadows to this day. We work every day for companies that pay wages so low we can barely survive, for a dream we cannot achieve. I am sick of this slavery. Sick of working for callous people who are only interested in making more money and gaining more power over us. We accepted every lie they fed us. We are too broken, too poor, and too weak to do anything; we cannot even buy food without their approval, working mandatory 12-hour shifts to rebuild every solar system. “Rebuild or die as a traitor.” Such a joke. After 1,380 years, we cannot even finish rebuilding what they destroyed. This is the most ridiculous piece of crap I have heard. My only hope is that people will wake up, revolt, and change things. I think some people know this. They are afraid of them. Many believe they are free. I want to understand how free they truly are. Free to work until they die. Free to die in some slum with no money and no one who cares about them. Free to live a life of misery and delusion. We have elections to change things we don’t like, yet even when our government changes every five years. Things get worse, and we experience less freedom. We are free to vote for who will be our kleptocrat. Is this a real democracy or just a totalitarian cover? I can’t continue like this. If things don’t change soon, I will be forced to change things, even if my actions are small and insignificant. Maybe one day they will look back at this as the beginning of the end—the end of oppression. A dog trapped in a garden for its whole life can never understand what it feels like to live in a forest. I want to know what it feels like to live in the forest.