We are wolves, which are wild dogs, and this is our place in the city. We are small and our house is small on our small urban street. We can see the city and the train line and it's beautiful in its own dangerous way. Dangerous because it's shared and taken and fought for. That's the best way I can put it, and thinking about it, when I walk past the tiny houses on our street, I wonder about the stories inside them. I wonder hard, because houses must have walls and rooftops for a reason. My only query is the windows. Why do they have windows? Is it to let a glimpse of the world in? Or for us to see out?
Amongst these legends of dragon hoards, Where secret, precious things are stored, There golden nugget and diamond shard, There treasure-keeper hoped to guard. As bolted doorway securely braced, hoping its treasures to ever hold, hoping beyond when time grows old, So stood the keeper in its place.A statue of unrelenting stanceStill stands victim to happenstance, For treasure-keeper did not bargainon a bit of chance and a bit of dwargen- Dwenzuak the dwargen
We have an internal check and balance system. By design we are so filled with possibility, opportunity, with greatness that when we live small, within the bottom of our capability, we innately know we should be living greater than that, and it creates a disconnect inside that leads us to feeling empty, unhappy, maybe even depressed.