one card ramble-writing

these are mine, all mine, you see, right? MINE. these I can hold, can clutch to my chest. these no one can take away from me, no, never. will not let them take away, cannot.

but you must watch where you are going! you're walking straight into that furnace, too busy looking behind you. you cannot live life like this, always fearful, always suspicious, waiting to be robbed. what kind of living is that?

that's what you'd like me to think, sure. let my guard down, loosen my grip and then... no, no i know what that's all about. i've worked too hard for these, gave too much of myself to acquire my wealth. i must hold onto it. that's what it's all about.

but look at you, walking alongside death to keep it, flirting with skeletons, wild-eyed. there are so many factories producing wonders, trinkets, curiosities to mesmerize the mind - if you could free your hands, go there, see...

see what? you think i don't see this skeleton-man, this death specter, always in my shadow, always waiting? do you think i am blind? this is what the coins are for: when everything else falls away, what i can grasp to my breast is what i will have. the material will comfort me. the metal is always worth the same: i can lose friends, can lose health, and sanity, and love, but gold? it is reliable, mine.

and you can lose all those things anyway, faster, by clutching too stubbornly, too desperately at what you already have.