As a kid, I had no money on me, or rather, the money was spent, but not by me. I gave no value to money, as it came and went. It came through my parents and went; it just passed through me via them. Money is certainly needed, not by me of course, but the part of me that fancies a life other than mine, getting it would guarantee my seat at the table.
Respect is what I want. Not sure if I can buy it. Getting something that people don't think I'm capable of getting, it would feel like I'm being praised, even though it wouldn't be through my own doing. I'd feel like a con. And even if I went through with it, the only friends I have would be lost, jealousy seeping in.

Do not make me
never enough...
A liar. And forever
still —
never enough.

They want me as I am. Advice comes easily, but they need me as I am not, counting on people remembering the one thing I was able to buy.
What would I take? Nothing fancy; it wouldn't suit me. A logical mind goes straight to just getting a house, rent it out or live in it. Gosh, no glee, nothing content. What kind of person have I become?
It's not like an extravagant lifestyle, but it feels that way. If I get something, would I just wait for the next thing?
I think there is a reason nothing is free or even immortal. There is a cost, a part of the soul or the very identity crafted through all these years.