How to get richer

Apparently thoughts aren’t bubbles but gathered silvery dust that swells and glides and rolls with its own momentum; there is a world peopled with grotesqueries we imagine birthed and burst, nothing left to stroll on home to us. This is what mystics say; Buddhists bricked in caves of their own choosing have returned from years of travel to report that thoughts were seen living lonely in shabby houses they had constructed behind fences or feted their feet anointed with oil or up on mountains high arms spread able to fly. My thoughts, it is said, were not adorned with riches, scrabbling in the sand or running to the shadows peeking out or worse lost to false worship. To be Croesus we must believe we’re Croesus and send forth builders in gold, their tiny picks and rubber mallets, to bend and shape the malleable stuff we’re effusing.


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