Proverbs 19:1 Better is the poor who walks in his integrity Than he who is crooked though he be rich.

Rich Fool Love

There once was a boy that was very generous. He was rich. He worked his whole life to attain his wealth and fortune, and when he retired from his jobs, he hit the streets in the search of love, wealth, and fortune, and to share himself with the world, and enjoy the freedoms that he reserved for himself. He wore the finest clothes, and with sylish hats, and a pocket watch he used to tell time. He frequented coffee shops, which at the time were the center of culture. He would gather to watch live musicals, and poetry readings that were scheduled weekly. He would never miss a day. There he met many different kinds of people. Some who had wealth of their own, and some that were poor. The wealthy people paid no mind to the boy, but the poor flocked to him attracted by his fine sensibilities. It was common for them to ask for handouts, and try to lure him to the fields to smoke narcotics, and do drugs. The boy grew weary of this, and prepared himself everyday to deal with the corruption that manifested itself on the main street of the town in which he frequented often. The boy was very contented by the fact that he was self reliant, and fiercely independent. He had many loves in his life. Short moments that inspired his work as an artist, and a writer. There was never a shortage of love, for he was virtuous, and God fearing. He thought a lot about spiritual transcendence, and overcoming the human condition. He did aspire at one time to be a figurehead in the local art, and music scene himself, but became disillusioned by those who controlled the venues, calling them “Liars, and false faces”. His brand of work was more honest, and challenged the authoritarians, and those who were put on pedestals, by local supporters, and those who were branded by a conformist, herd like mentality that he came to loath. The boy frequented the many cafes along the main drag, but became desensitized by the many falsehoods that confronted him every time he tried to form a relationship, or some sort of mutual friendship with those who he became fond of. Everyday was a new day, and everyday there was always a new situation he had to take home and analyze, while he laid in his bed. With the lights dimly lit, all he could hear was the hush of the streetcars that drove along the cobblestone streets. It was a warm summer night, and he thought lastly about this poor girl who struck his fancy one-day. She was just a face to him, but he wondered if there was something behind the façade of her naturally pretty face. He never attempted to approach her not once. He knew instinctively that if he tried to win her favour, while having an attack of lust, that any chance he had with her would be forfeit, and he would have to find another muse of his liking to inspire him. This was his dilemma. His last love took much from him emotionally, and monetarily. He knew this when it all happened, but could do little about it, for the woman demanded much from him, in exchange for sexual fulfillment. He spent the last four months in her apartment, of which he spent time writing a recipe book. He cooked her meals when she came home from the office. He savored each concoction, never wanting to forget each delicious meal. “Soups, and Saucy Dishes”, his book was to be called, he said. “It will be an exciting fusion of Asian, and Indian cuisine”. The woman was rich, but would not admit it, living poor to ward off any gold diggers, and to attract wealthy men, who “only wanted to help”. She had a slightly domineering attitude which she learned from her mother, keeping the man of the house, the submissive, which was the broken down wretch her father was. Her father after years of abuse became an alcoholic, drinking gin all night in the washroom, hiding from his maniacal wife who actually spent most of her days in her room, with the air conditioner on, in clutter, devoid of a view of the floor. The boy took this into consideration, and decided he didn’t want to end up in the same situation, and adopted a standoffish attitude that would keep her from getting the upper hand, always. This sordid relationship was doomed by these circumstances, which ultimately destroyed their relationship. The boy at last, kicked out for the last time, took most of his belongings, as much as he could carry. Leaving remnants of his possessions behind for her to confiscate, and possess. Another thing that broke the relationship was her vagabond daughter, who insulted the boy on many occasions, never giving him a break, or a chance to make good on the fact she didn’t have a father to bring her up, and teach her respect, and how to care. “The Brat”, as he referred to her after a bout of her bad attitude, sent shockwaves to his senses. It took him time to think about what she said to him, and he would explode after a day of contemplating how he should handle the situation. The woman never reprimanded the child for her ill will, and allowed the girl to disrespect the boy for whatever reason there might have been. The boy understood that he wasn’t the real father, and never will be, but if he was to grow with them as a family, as time progressed, he wouldn’t end up an effigy, or a symbol of hatred. This was his main concern. When the relationship was over, he was not disappointed, but needed time to reflect, and sever his attachment to her emotionally. “Rock-n-Roll”, he said to himself, taking the break up like a champ. He was ready for anything at this point. It was a long 4 years with her. Much happened, lots of things…


Proverbs 24:1-2 Do not envy wicked men, do not desire their company; for their hearts plot violence, and their lips talk about making trouble.

Proverbs 18:21 The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit.

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