When I was a young teenager, fourteen years old or there abouts, it dawned on me that money wasn't real.
"Not real?" I was asked
"Of course it's real!" I was told
"What do you mean? It's not real?" the chorus chanted
I didn't know what I meant - well I did but it was so simple I couldn't say it without getting any of the above replies, let alone other replies that touched upon my mental capabilities.
I left school and went out into the big, wide world
My big brother was going to uni and I was just a worker. We both ended up in the local canning factory for the summer - double shift work from early morning to early the next morning. He paid no tax as a student. I got caned (as in had my money taxed to the hilt - emergency tax codes, don't you love them). He could afford lots of goodies. I could only afford to scrape by.
My head, my way of thinking, never was the same as everyone else's and, as life went on for me, I saw more and more that kept wobbling the 'money is invented' button inside my thinking.
But I carried on being employed, going for my dream, supporting myself and paying my way.
