If i had 1....356 million dollars.

I wrote this in respoce to the Last new Jersey Lottery winner. What would happen if I won 356 million dollars, and how would I feel, and a little philosophy.

My brown eyes are slowly moving from right to left, scanning the new landscape in front of me, committing each new tree and rock to memory. My white tennis shoes step carefully down the stairs as I exit the shiny new Boeing 737. As I set foot on the tarmac my mind wonders what will be in store for me this week. This has been my third year traveling. City to city…country to country. Nothing surprises me anymore. I’ve been all over this big blue-green sphere we call the globe. New York. LA. Sandusky. Chicago. Beijing. London. Paris. Madrid. Saigon. Baghdad. Port Royal. After a while, one city bleeds into another. New York could be in Taiwan. London could be in Russia. Sometimes even I lose track of where I am. Where was I this week? Somewhere in the Western Hemisphere? Ah yes! St. Croix. The Caribbean. I have been here before as with most of the world. My curse began about 4 years ago. It was 2007 and I was just a normal average everyday college student. I lived in a shoe-box, washed my own clothes, ate most of my meals from the McDonalds dollar menu, and I drove around a 1983 Pontiac Tempest. Those were the good old days. Before complication, before money. I relive that day over and over in my mind. I can smell the dirty socks on the passenger seat in my nostrils even now. It’s the memories that torture me. I pulled up to the Wawa and even now I can feel the sun on face my as I climbed out of the driver seat. I went in looking to get a sweet tea and a bag of Lays. I came out with 356 million dollars. I know what you’re thinking. I could use 356 million dollars. You want mine? Take it; but finish this story before you make up your mind. I can still feel the grease from the potato chips on my fingers. The grease made the quarter hard to hold onto. It kept sliding out of my hands as I scratched the ticket. I remember sitting on the worn upholstery gasping for breath. The quarter fell to the ground and made a soft thud that made my ears ring. The ticket cost me two dollars. My economics teacher would have told me that the opportunity cost for the ticket was about equal to a bag of jelly beans. Here I am in paradise. Alone. Sure I have my own private jet. My own entourage but no friends. I own 12 houses in 12 different countries and I don’t have a home. I own 2 major sports teams, a cruise line, I have more cars then Jay Leno. I know because that’s the only reason I bought them. I own half of the island of Fiji and it kills me. You are thinking to yourself, “How selfish can someone be?” or “What more can this guy want?” I want a house. A couple of kids maybe. A lawn, white picket fence, but most of all I want someone who likes me for me, not for my money. So if you want my curse you can have it. But I warn you that wherever you run to; your troubles can catch you. Wherever you live; you will long to be back home. No matter how much money you have you will yearn for it to be the way it used to be. The more things you own the less life you experience