Stranger; “Don’t you wanna have a child even if you could.”
Me; “Some people are born pristine and fit for labor and some others aren’t. Now it does not mean that they can’t even if they could; it simply means that they are born pristine and fit for other stuff like mowing the garden.”
Stranger; “Who dries their clothes so hard that the skin on the palms of their hands peels off handing up sore with instant blisters and cuts—blows on them—and finishes the job.”
Let me not sound so bragging by stating that I’ve read a whole prayer written in Hebrew at home, alone by myself and double checking—what do you want from me.
Stranger; “There’s nothing out there.”
Me; “I’m glad you asked.”
Me; “Because I’d rather live on one coin than continue to smell the smell of one more subhuman breathing around me.”
Yes I have a home and it’s a lovely home; but, I want to take this lovely home and go home.
Yesterday, the cat kept meowling back to another cat who was yowling and strolling the streets near by. She wanted them to live with us because, you know; this is a lovely home. I told her that it’s worthwhile waiting for someone nice who would have the decency to respond back to you.
Why an office building next door would use the windows facing people’s homes; I mean, IS IT ME OR WHAT.
Once a someone might have just saw you in your underwear through the fine mesh of the window screen, that’s it, it’s never gonna’ happen again.
Living in the dirtiest ghetto all year ’round and it feels just like home. Because where home could that anywhere be.