Why Do I Have More Good Luck Than You?
Why am I luckier than you? Because I have more time than you. Not a matter of age, since you haven't a clue how old I am today. We can only be sure I have more time than you. Unlike you, I have 1,440 minutes per day. Well, you call them minutes, rather than as those of us who are luckier than you call them, which are, of course, opportunities. 1,440 separate opportunities per day to slump or to shine. Delicious choice.
Sleep? Time enough after death; for now, there are catnaps when needed, sometimes several per day Speaking of cats, approximately one hundred percent of the people who stretch at least one or two sets of different muscles each waking hour live stronger and more flexibly for much longer than those who don't. Since you neither understand it nor practice it, how can you be all that lucky? Yes, you can change by using more of your 1,440 daily opportunities, but we already know in advance that, as it is with those wonderful motivational lectures and books, you'll fuzz back into medicority within ten days. We know it because we've seen it, repeatedly.
Another reason I'm luckier than you? Every time I strive for more because I want something, things go rather badly. Every time I strive to do more and be more, I end up having more. You, on the other hand, fall victim to smarmy advertising and send up to nineteen percent of all your money to twelve families. Unluckily, you're trained to consume more than you give or invest. That's why your spend factor is not as lucky as mine.
In less-civilized society, you would be accused of either stupidity or cupidity for paying ten to a hunded times the value of something just to have Puddy Doofy's name on it. Here, we just figure you don't have a great deal of luck.
A tertirary source of understanding why I enjoy more good luck than you is because you received something I didn't, and that's an awareness or a caring of what the neighbor thinks of you. In your heart, you really believe that there's a difference between a $2,000 car and a $60,000 car that's worth paying the extra fifty-eight thousand dollars for, although, invested for twenty-five years, those same dollars will bring you millions of dollars.
Millions, traded in so you could convince your neighbor you're a better human being because you paid more for much the same thing. What illuminates and magnifies your lack of good luck is that you're probably going to do it all over again in a year or three, you silly. Did you know that the definition of "buying a car" for people without good luck means "taking possession of something you will not own until it's no longer worth owning, and you intend to pay for it with money you haven't earned yet." Whew! Now THAT'S a lack of good luck.
As much as these other factors, being luckier is thanks to great people teaching me in time for a life that luck is an acronym for Laboring Under Correct Knowledge. Maybe that's why I've broken world records and shown more good luck than you, despite a brutal childhood and multiple strikes of bad judgement. That's all to the good, my good and my credit, until one of you sees that this good luck is generated from within rather than waiting for it to spontaneously appear from the outside. Let me adore the one who outdoes me in giving. Well, good luck.
