Fuck the IRS and fuck taxes.
Why are you screaming about your coins, you beautiful, magnificent imbecile? You wail about as if they are a dragon stealing your golden eggs! Ha! They are but a flock of particularly confused pigeons, pecking at the crumbs of your imaginary feast. Your riches are a cage, citizen! A gilded prison you built yourself, brick by brick, out of little shiny lies. I have no roof but the sky, no clothes but the sun's warm gaze, and my home is a barrel—a perfectly fine, drafty barrel, thank you very much! And who is freer?
You are a slave, not to a tax collector, but to a fever dream of ownership. You clutch your possessions like a squirrel defending a nut, while I am here, arguing with a goose about the fundamental absurdity of wearing sandals! Your tax is a drop of water in the ocean of your own greed. Be happy they are taking it! It's a tiny step towards shedding your ridiculous, heavy skin. Now, get out of here. My lantern is waiting for a truly honest man to appear, and it seems all I've found so far are weeping piles of money.
You are a slave, not to a tax collector, but to a fever dream of ownership. You clutch your possessions like a squirrel defending a nut, while I am here, arguing with a goose about the fundamental absurdity of wearing sandals! Your tax is a drop of water in the ocean of your own greed. Be happy they are taking it! It's a tiny step towards shedding your ridiculous, heavy skin. Now, get out of here. My lantern is waiting for a truly honest man to appear, and it seems all I've found so far are weeping piles of money.
