How To Be Rich Without Being Boring — Rich but bored people have so much money, they swim in pools of gold coins. But that’s no fun! In fact, with their skills and resources, rich but bored people are in the perfect position to turn their lives into meaningfully hilarious adventures! HERE ARE A FEW FUN TIPS FOR RICH BUT BORED PEOPLE:

Dearest former boss, I hope this email finds you well. I’m writing to you to give you a grandiose update on my new career as a poet. After I was fired a few months ago, I started posting my poems on Medium, and within a matter of seconds, I became…

The Fire That Burns Within — My mind, a tempest of jagged thoughts, Raging and crashing against the shore Of my fragile sanity. Sanity and insanity, two sides Of the same coin, Flipped by my own vanity. My dreams, a fevered carnival, A kaleidoscope of shattered glass, Twisting and churning my deepest desires, Hunting me like…

My envious story writing on Medium

and everything else — On my blood-red carpet, I watch heart-breaking news— someone carpet bombing innocence. Their music, a rumbling echo, reverberating through the walls. Is this how the powerful survive the weak? Can I also, in my defense, enjoy the melody of your gorgeous self-defense? Since the horror there drips sulfur on my tongue…

condemn me! — i am the dancing phantom in your periphery, don’t you want to discover me? i am the fearless maggot that burrows deep, into the tender heart of every perfect peach— do you still want to bitter its bittersweetness with me? i am your secret that lurks behind your every move. have you…

is hope —

where dreams and the universe collide — I’m just a dreamer, vibing with the universe. Even when the darkness is my only companion, I cling to my dreams, my heart’s goodness. Like a fragile flake in the chaos of creation, I keep going. My dreams bloom, their petals unfurling in a cosmic shimmery intoxicating me with pure possibility…

concrete dreams — i long for a teddy bear’s life, no worries, no pain, but the streets have taught me to coil around my torso and my brain. the streets whisper secrets, sirens promise bloom, needles tempt to kiss me, coins smoke my soul. it takes a village to raise a monster or…