Unwarranted Opinions: a penny for your thoughts

In+her+weekly+column+%22UnWarranted+Opinions%2C%22+staff+reporter+Drew+Julao+takes+on+a+variety+of+topics+and+gives+her+take.+

Morgan Kong

In her weekly column “UnWarranted Opinions,” staff reporter Drew Julao takes on a variety of topics and gives her take.

Drew Adrian Julao, Staff Reporter

If your worth was counted in coins in a jar, how many jars would you have? Or would you have any at all? These are the kinds of thought-provoking questions I often find myself asking no one in particular because who wants to hear a question that will never have a definitive answer?

Of course, one would expect me to have an answer to my own question, but I don’t. Most of the time, I feel as though I don’t deserve even just one coin; especially a penny.

Though, most people may consider the worth of a penny to be low, I must say that, in truth, all of the smallest pieces of anything are often of high importance. The penny is an extremely valuable and indispensable concept.

In regard to this philosophy, there is no one who deserves a penny because no one could ever compare to one. It’s consistency is unparalleled, though in the highest of heats, it changes forms, adjusting its state of matter to the conditions of the world around it. It is so common and is given the facade of being monetarily indispensable, yet it is so invaluable.

In marketing, the penny is used to model the perception that a product is not as expensive as it seems. For instance, a twenty dollar item is instead priced at nineteen ninety-nine dollars. This causes many more people to buy it. Its influence is the hidden dagger that slays the dragon at the end of a long battle. Not even the warrior expects it to be his greatest weapon.

The penny is also the greatest example to live by. Thrive in your weaknesses and the way the world underestimates you. When you succeed, no one will have seen it coming. Cheesy, I know, but true.

If only I was a penny. A valuable, beautiful penny in the middle of a random sidewalk in a loud, heavy city. Then I would be lying; looking up to the sky and the roads of buildings leading up to the sky and the cotton candy, polluted clouds. Passers-by would step over me and I would live in one constancy even when the snow falls on me and I freeze under it, waiting to be revealed to the sun again. Then, I would be free.