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Money Doesn’t Exist

Money Doesn’t Exist

Post Series: All The Money In The World Is In Other People Pockets

There is no physical money. It’s a mental construct, a controlled hallucination shared by almost the entire population of the globe. There’s no physical object which, by itself, can have an intrinsic, exchangeable value. Even if we can identify “precious” metals like gold, or coins, or notes, bonds or company shares as physical objects which are carrying a certain value, there’s no intrinsic value of them.

For many of the readers of this posts series (yes, I’m writing a posts series) this may seem like a delusional claim. “Of course there is physical money, I just paid my rent with it!” Oh well, what you did looked like and exchange of real, “physical” money for some service, but what happened was really something else.

It was a transfer of trust.

The posts you’re about to read will try to demystify the mainstream perception of money. Because, like it or not, money, as we know it, is just a myth.

Myth – noun

There are 4 possible meanings for the word “myth” in the Merriam Webster dictionary. The 2nd and the 3rd are the most relevant for our case. Here they are:

2 – a) a popular belief or tradition that has grown up around something or someone – especially one embodying the ideals and institutions of a society or segment of society

2 – b) an unfounded or false notion

3 – a person or thing having only an imaginary or unverifiable existence.

We will certainly get back to these definitions at various points in this series, but for now let’s write down some key words:

  • popular belief
  • unfounded or false
  • imaginary or unverifiable existence.

So, if money is not physical, what is it then?

Stick with me, we’ll all find out in the next post of the series.



Running For My Life - from zero to ultramarathoner


The spooky thing about depression is that it sneaks in. There aren’t really trumpets and loud voices announcing: “Hail, hail, this is depression entering the room, all rise!” Nope. It’s slow, silent, creepy. It doesn’t even look like depression. It starts with small isolation thoughts like: “Maybe I shouldn’t get out today, I just don’t feel like going out”. And then it does the same next day. And then the day after that and so on. And then it starts to whisper louder and louder in your ears: “Why would you go outside, you loser? Didn’t have enough yet? Want more people to make fun of how much of a big, fat loser you are?”

And then you start to breath in guilt and shame, instead of air. Every breathe you take is putting more dark thoughts into your body.

Until you get stuck. You can’t move anymore. At all.

If you want to know how I got out of this space, eventually, check out my latest book on Amazon and Kindle.

Running For My Life -from zero to ultramarathoner

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