Why the High Rise?

Jeff Bezos’ net worth is $200 billion. He bought, amongst other properties, the most expensive homes in California and Washington, DC. Do you think that he’s worried about a high rise in Wilmington, Delaware? I didn’t think so. While his homes offer extensive views, lavish features and boast high-tech features like Firestick and Alexa that can probably read your temperature and diagnose whether you COVID-19 or not, I would want those same creature comforts. Maybe later, when I generate a fortune that would afford a Bezos dwelling, I might consider abodes like these, but not right now.

At this moment, I want a highrise. Like scraping the sky kind of high rise. Right in Delaware. One with marble floors, and walnut, and brushed steel metal work. Keep the mansion, give me the highest residential space in the city. Now, I get why someone would want a gigantic house. The space. The immense amount of room that would satisfy the need for room. But just give me a space overlooking a body of water as I clutch the waist of a gorgeous woman.

I would love to see a bedroom awash in light in the morning, as the sun fills the sky. I envision a wondrous place, atop a structure with the high performance tech amenities that would rival those of Mr. Bezos. I would love the shower to know my exact temperature before I even step in the area. The water would activate upon recognizing me in the space. There would be a conventional oven and a microwave oven that cooks perfectly by sensing the type of food I've just placed inside.

I would splash the walls with buff and Colonial blue. Everything. The tiles on the backsplash, the countertops, and the color of the cabinets. I would luxuriate in the fact that I could appreciate, no, love that I could look out with the eyes of a captain of the sky. I am more impressed by the fact that living in a residential high rise, towering above the city, would be more soulful to me. To be able to scope out things going on around me would permit me to say, “Wow, I’ve earned the right to see all of this.”

I would include alpaca rugs throughout the place. Just walking around barefoot on heated floors, and then stepping on the plush alpaca would give me a sudden. Artificial light would glow throughout after dark. I would make an effort to ensure every door knob, every utensil, every shower rod looked like it was dipped in that same Colonial blue. White walls would allow the colors to truly “pop.” If given the option, I would allow my lady friend to just lay out on a piece of the property outside to bask in those rays of natural light.

Like a fortress in the air, I would treat the home as a way to convey a sense of artistry. I’d have dozens of pieces of art adorning the walls. Sculptures would take up space like beautiful, frozen bodies, expressing greatness and control. These works would exemplify the ideas of free speech, beauty, and the ability to immerse oneself in Romantic Realism.

There would be plenty of opportunities to install pinball machines, complete with flashing lights and booming sounds. The seating section would be simple: lawn chairs. I’m not expecting anyone but the woman in my life to be there with me, and anyone else would find it uncomfortable to sit down.

I have seen the glory of the entire apartment shimmer in my eyes, like sunlight on a river. Given the right financial situation, I would buy as many thousand count bed sheets as it would take to keep my girlfriend and me comfortable through the nights.

If I got to be wealthier through producing a fortune, I would include in this dream apartment a stereo system that would ooze sounds that fit my mood. As a writer of limited means, I can still imagine the ways I want this apartment to be. I would make it possible for all of the fixtures to be in one accord. This streamlined idealism is what motivates me today. Though I may not be as wealthy as a certain quinquagenarian with hundreds of billions of dollars, I can picture in my mind the clarity of my ambition.