When everything you touch turns to gold, what is left to love?
Now, that’s assuming you are valuable enough to make money all the time, and the worth of your work outweighs the cost of keeping you around. A man with a golden touch certainly incurs higher-than-normal income tax fees, for one.
Also, let’s take for granted that you had anything to love, and be loved by, before you gained these magical precious metal-producing powers. If, for instance, your wife and children have been transformed by your careless caresses, I’ll grant you a point. However, humans who have alienated those around them, the sociopathic, the deadbeat parents, and the soulless politicians cannot call upon their neglected relatives or burned bridges for reference.
Between these two assumptions, and the probability of simultaneous bad luck, I’ll allow one to feel sorry for one’s self for a short period of time. Then, back to work. Gold doesn’t sell itself.
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