Jar of Pennies.

I have this jar of pennies in my closet. Technically speaking, it's not even a jar, per se. It's more like, a lot of pennies in a sandwich bag.

Every time I manage to safely put all the pennies I come across into that jar at the end of the night, I feel like I'm doing something right. I also think to myself, hey, at least I'm doing something right. I mean, I'm still alive, so I guess that's another thing that I seem to be doing right, too, but this, in a sense, is much more real. It's right in front of me, and what not. It's tangible and what not, even if I'm going to go into some mushy metaphorical bullshit in just a little.

See, every penny can signify something, you know?

No. Fuck that, I can't do it. I know I could've continued writing that and people would've been all fucking mystified by it and the amounts of fake skewed up philosophy I managed to stuff into it.

It's just a jar of pennies, all right. And for some insane reason it makes me feel just a little more grounded. You know? I also enjoy it because - hey, it's money. And eventually, one day, I'll take it over to a bank and get it converted to bills. It's probably around 10 dollars right now.

10 Dollars. That sounds like such little money, it's ... just horrible. Because that was my first thought: "Gosh, that's not a lot of money..." Then immediately after that, I felt guilty and completed it with: "... that's horrible though! There are starving kids and stuff all around the world, and people have made it with way less money!"

I don't even know where I was trying to go with this.

But uh... yeah. Jar of pennies... and stuff.