Readers may note that this blog is named after a lyric from a Bob Dylan song, called ‘It’s Alright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)’. At the bottom of this article, I’ll post the whole lyric.
This song explains, better than I can, my thoughts about money in today’s society. Take ‘advertising signs they con/ you into thinking you’re the one/ who can do what’s never been done/ who can win what’s never been won.’ And then think about the last time you had an urge to buy something because it keeps popping up on your Facebook feed.
Of course, there are no prizes for guessing the line in the song that grips me the most:
‘Money doesn’t talk, it swears’.
JL Collins calls it ‘F-You’ money. The moment when you have enough money behind you to walk into your boss’s office and hand them your notice. When you don’t need them, you’re financially independent.
Having that sort of money is the dream for almost everyone. Yet, it’s accessible to most of us. By thinking about what we are purchasing, lowering our expenses and saving the difference, we too can become financially independent.
I’ve already explained that I’m very much at the start of this journey. I thought it would be a good idea to give you a bit of background about me.
I wasn’t born into a well off family. We weren’t poor either. But my father was self-employed. Each day, he would come home and tell my mum how much he had taken. One year, when the UK was in a recession, I remember that nerves were fraught. Work was drying up.
I’ve never asked him, but I don’t think my father is much of a saver. In any case, this part of my life shaped how I thought about money.
When I started work, I never took stability for granted. I knew that loyalty between a company and employee counts for nothing. At any moment, I knew that I could be dispensed with.
Of course, at 17 years old, although these thoughts tumbled around my head, I didn’t have the means to do anything about it.
Actually, ignore that. I had the means, but I didn’t have the knowledge. I was more interested in nights out with my friends than a 10% return on my investments. Wouldn’t it have been great to have started investing way back then?
Money carries weight in this society. From big business to the man on the street, being financially stable is important.
Known for his turn of phrase, Bob Dylan has another quote that has a FIRE spin: ‘A man is a success if he gets up in the morning and gets to bed at night, and in between he does what he wants to do.‘
In a nutshell, that sums up financial independence to me. In however many years, I hope to be able to wake up when I want and to spend my time at my own will. I imagine I will still work at my freelance writing side hustle, but I won’t be a slave to 9-5 work.
Another not-financial-independence-related-but-I’ve-put-my-own-spin-on-it quote is from Charles Bukowski. At FIRE finishing school, they should give out a copy of his novel, Post Office, such is the drudge of working life which he describes. Factotum is the next step, which follows Bukowski’s semi-fictional self’s early writing life. My favourite quote is: “How in the hell could a man enjoy being awakened at 8:30 a.m. by an alarm clock, leap out of bed, dress, force-feed, shit, piss, brush teeth and hair, and fight traffic to get to a place where essentially you made lots of money for somebody else and were asked to be grateful for the opportunity to do so? ”
This is why I want to become financially independent. So I can enrich my own life, rather than those at the top of the company chain.
Anyway, to play you out, here is Bob Dylan:
Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child’s balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying
Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fool’s gold mouthpiece the hollow horn
Plays wasted words, proves to warn
That he not busy being born is busy dying
Temptation’s page flies out the door
You follow, find yourself at war
Watch waterfalls of pity roar
You feel to moan but unlike before
You discover that you’d just be one more
So don’t fear if you hear
A foreign sound to your ear
It’s alright, Ma, I’m only sighing
As some warn victory, some downfall
Private reasons great or small
Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
To make all that should be killed to crawl
While others say don’t hate nothing at all
Disillusioned words like bullets bark
As human gods aim for their mark
Make everything from toy guns that spark
To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
It’s easy to see without looking too far
That not much is really sacred
While preachers preach of evil fates
Teachers teach that knowledge waits
Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
Goodness hides behind its gates
But even the president of the United States
Sometimes must have to stand naked
An’ though the rules of the road have been lodged
It’s only people’s games that you got to dodge
And it’s alright, Ma, I can make it
Advertising signs they con
You into thinking you’re the one
That can do what’s never been done
That can win what’s never been won
Meantime life outside goes on
All around you
You lose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand with nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks they really found you
A question in your nerves is lit
Yet you know there is no answer fit
To satisfy, insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not forget
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you belong to
Although the masters make the rules
For the wise men and the fools
I got nothing, Ma, to live up to
For them that must obey authority
That they do not respect in any degree
Who despise their jobs, their destinies
Speak jealously of them that are free
Cultivate their flowers to be
Nothing more than something they invest in
While some on principles baptized
To strict party platform ties
Social clubs in drag disguise
Outsiders they can freely criticize
Tell nothing except who to idolize
And then say God bless him
While one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargles in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society’s pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hole
That he’s in
But I mean no harm nor put fault
On anyone that lives in a vault
But it’s alright, Ma, if I can’t please him
Old lady judges watch people in pairs
Limited in sex, they dare
To push fake morals, insult and stare
While money doesn’t talk, it swears
Obscenity, who really cares
Propaganda, all is phony
While them that defend what they cannot see
With a killer’s pride, security
It blows the minds most bitterly
For them that think death’s honesty
Won’t fall upon them naturally
Life sometimes must get lonely
My eyes collide head-on with stuffed
Graveyards, false gods, I scuff
At pettiness which plays so rough
Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
Kick my legs to crash it off
Say okay, I have had enough
what else can you show me?
And if my thought-dreams could be seen
They’d probably put my head in a guillotine
But it’s alright, Ma, it’s life, and life only
Follow me on Twitter @swearingmoney
***The information contained herein does not constitute financial or other professional advice and is general in nature.
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