Love of money has played a big part in my life. Most of my relatives are beyond wealthy. They have more money than a peasant like me could ever know what to do with. They live on these grand estates with land enough to feed an entire city but it remains unused.
I am drawn between two lives. One, being a life of excessive opulence. I could become "one of the family," as is expected on me. I am not lazy. I have morals. I do not want to dedicate myself to money or sales as they have. I do not want to build strip malls for the yankees. I do not want to strip forests for raw materials. I don't want to play the stock market. I do not want to network with jews. I do not want a million dollars.
I want food. I want a happy family. I want a quaint little home. I want to come home after working the fields and have a couple ecstatic kids run up to me, a smiling wife and a dog. I want good friends. By God what more does a man need than this?
But they don't understand. They look down on me because I reject their offers for help. I do not want to be like them, but to obtain that little farm I need about $300,000. To make that stupid woman smile she needs more than a shack in a junk yard.
Gonna keep it real with you, chief: What the fuck are you doing?
If you have a rich family, and there's *any* way you can deal with them that ensures a big fat slice of that pie for yourself, fucking do it. Your morals mean nothing here, quite frankly, especially if your hangup is "I don't feel like getting into sales or something." You're wasting the single best opportunity one could possibly have in this life for a good future (that is, being born into generational wealth) over small potatoes.