The Melancholy Man

He was genuinely sad and disappointed in his fellow human beings. He didn't know what to do with them, they seemed so concentrated and focused on going nowhere, just to survive. "What about imagination? What about enjoying the moment?"

He sat up and picked up the black book from his bedroom table. He purposely put it very close to the bed so he didn't have to get up when he didn't feel like it. He wanted to read, to take his mind off of the melancholy in his soul, but it couldn't be ignored - it had to be expressed.

"Why didn't people appreciate the right things?" It seemed to him that no one wanted to stay healthy, be cheerful, do their shadow work, and inform themselves on the right subjects. "Why don't they focus on becoming and staying their true selves? Why is it all about money?"

His mind turned to his work. "And why don't people appreciate intelligence, especially when it's used to help others and solve worldwide problems? Why aren't my insights valued, especially the ones that are helpful to others? I just don't understand it." He put the book down on the table and remained in the sitting position, hunched over.

He didn't feel like doing anything. He knew he had to write today, but he just didn't feel like it. He heard somewhere that you're truly a strong person if you work even when you don't want to. He disagreed - he always found that if you work when you don't want to, he was usually suppressing an emotion that wants to be heard and expressed.

The corners of his mouth turned towards his chest. He knew this, yet he had already done so much subjective work. Years of it. Yet there was more to do? It was disheartening to discover this, and he just felt like numbing the pain with video games. Didn't he deserve it after going through shadow work so intense that it made him the strongest person he knew?

Apparently not. The sadness was overwhelming. "Maybe it was because I only got 5 hours of sleep last night," he thought. "No, I can't just brush it off like that - I've felt sad about the state of humanity for a long time. Too long." His head hung even further and he wondered how he was going to approach this.

It was at this time that his girlfriend woke up beside him. She was so beautiful with her naturally red hair, her wonderful smile, and the freckles on her nose. She had a wonderful heart and a kind spirit, and he was so grateful to be in her presence. She grabbed his arm and put it over her body, effectively telling him to lie down and hold her while she rested.

He smiled as mixed emotions began to rise within him, sadness, joy, and love. Unfortunately, his sadness was the strongest emotion of the three, even though he wished it wasn't. He decided he was going to lay there, accept his sadness, and go through the same process he did with every other emotion he was subconsciously suppressing. He would treat himself with compassion since sadness always responded well to compassion

"So," he thought to himself, "you're sad about the world again, huh?"

"Yeah…" He suspected that the part of himself who was sad was part of his inner child since he couldn't stop crying on the inside.

"Okay, okay… Come here." He imagined the child and the adult embracing and he felt a little better when they did so. But the child quickly pulled back and said, "this doesn't help the problem out there! I feel better but how do we save the world?!"

The adult side of him didn't know what to say. He wanted to say that it wasn't possible, or that it would be too hard to save the entire world from themselves. He also didn't want to discourage the part of himself that was so pure and so kind, so he said, "by just being yourself. You can do it, no matter how hard it seems." They embraced again and he could feel a gigantic weight lift off of his chest.

"Morning" he whispered into her ear in as deep a voice as he could manage. He heard her moan softly and she pulled him ever so closer to her body. He knew his voice turned her on, so he whispered into her ear whenever he got the chance. She didn't seem to mind very much!

His thoughts turned to money. Money, money, money… He wished he had all of the money in the world so he could give it all away. He truly decided he would never let himself be consumed by greed, and that he would always give back, even if he had very little. He wished that he had $50,000,000,000 in his bank account so he could fund all of his projects. He wanted to build housing for the homeless, privately-funded mental illness hospitals, organizations that would permanently solve world hunger. He wanted to broadcast his conscious information by paying for advertising, and he would pay to advertise others who were genuinely good at heart. He wanted to entertain people in a safe, fun, and effective way. But where would the money come from?

He sighed an internal sigh. He knew how to make money snowball onto itself, he just needed 6 digits to start out with. He could turn $100,000 into $1,000,000 and beyond, but how was he going to get that $100,000? His seasonal job was about to end. He told himself that writing was what he truly wanted to do, when in reality, he wanted to write but he wanted to do all of these other things too, like give away free money and things that people would truly appreciate.

He decided that he was going to start small. Maybe he'd give away $100, he could do that. Maybe he could set up an option where people could pay $1 or $2 to get extra entries into the raffle, and maybe he'd make more than the $100 that he initially gave away. Maybe he could donate some of the proceedings to charity. "Was that scamming? Was that amoral?" These questions floated through his mind. "If I do this, will people actually care? If I spend money to advertise the giveaway, will I see an ROI?" He realized that he would simply have to try it and see for himself.

But maybe it would work. Maybe it would snowball onto itself. Then maybe he could wake up next to his beautiful woman every morning and never have to worry about money. Maybe he could fund the projects he really wanted to do, and change the world for the better. Maybe, just maybe…

A few hours later he got the notification on his phone. He had won the $20,000 prize money! It was a start, he thought, and he was going to make the most of it no matter what!