This place. This place where I grew up. This place where time really is money. Our clocks are always ticking. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years. We all know exactly how long we have on Earth. The poor can’t afford time. They don't have long. The rich have too much time. They can live forever.
My family is wealthy. No, we don't have money. Nobody does. Time is our currency. We have time.
Being wealthy isn’t great. My family can’t leave the house. We are the target of many people out there. Just because my life is longer than most, doesn’t mean I really live. What’s the point of living forever? You see family, friends, everyone you care about dying. You can’t do anything to help them. You live through the good and the bad.
My family worked hard to be where we are now. We can have anything we want. But I don't deserve this time. I am not a doctor or a scientist trying to help people. I can’t help change the world into a better place. This time should go to the people who can change the world, for better. Not someone like me who was just lucky enough to be born into this family.
I should be out there. With everyone else. Living every day like it could be my last. Enjoying life for it is short. Or it would be if we weren’t rich.
I want to help others, maybe even donate my time to the people who can make a difference in this world. They need time more than me.