I find comfort in my status of life in small ways. One may rob me of some simple joy, but I am warm and dry. If I really want to I can buy what you have carelessly destroyed. I have somewhere else.
Why should me enjoying life matter to one as you? What I have, I have and what I own, I own, owing no other for its kind or keep.
It pains me most that such a burden is laced upon my employer, who bares the loss of such transactions.
It is in youth that one believes in the “because effect”, and it is in age that one tarries slower, judging with a more opened eye. Age has granted me the lesson of one's tongue and from that I will be more still. What should it merit me to be otherwise!
I hear them from my little space, like chickens finding an order; I chuckle to myself
because I have a place. It is not of status or of wealth, but of simple-ness and peace. No matter what I am blessed.
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