All for Nothing

Ben's voice was in my ear, so I smiled. It was a miracle, really, that I could hear his words so clearly, even though he spoke them from 2,000 miles away. Sometimes it felt more like 2,000 light years away.
We were talking about money, and I suggested that he needed a job with regular hours, so as to ensure consistent income.
 "No I don't," he said, and I could practically see his face, see the furrow of his brow. "I'm gonna have to work the rest of my life, why start now? I've got the basics. I don't need anything else." Something slid into place in my brain; something clicked.
 "You know what? You're right. You're absolutely fuckin' right. The last thing I want to do this summer is go back to work, to spend eight hours in a cubicle answering phones, wasting time, selling things I only half believe in" I said, getting excited.
"That's exactly what it is, too." he responded. "A waste of time, of life. And you're literally forced to say certain things, you're told what to say. And it's such a competitive environment, and all for money. All for nothing."
"It makes no sense. God, I feel like an idiot. I have wasted so much time, wasted so much energy worrying about money. I have been wrapped up in it for so long. But it really just hit me over the head just now. How meaningless money really is. You know what we should do? We should spend a year or two just like, living in a tent."
"Absolutely, or out of our car."
"I just really feel like I need to get in touch with the things that matter," I said, pressing the phone closer to my cheek.
"Yeah," he said, "and in order to do that, you've got to let go of the things that don't."