I’m attracted to older people because they are wiser. After actually living life for a long while, they know you can’t get by with just the politics of the brain. Selecting their leader doesn’t look like an anxious year of following polls that implodes on itself one early November evening. They know louder doesn’t mean more intelligent so shut up and hear what I have to say world I know what is best because I can tolerate you and cherry-pick all the ripe fruit whenever I need it and my screams are practically arias and practicality saves me from hell and heaven and these numbers back me up except my age. Oh, you pretty young ones, there is simply nothing inspiring about inventing your own self, your own world. Ignore that voice for once, the one which you have been trying to defend for so long. The wise know that is a fight one does not win. The ones to whom we ought to be listening, besides the creator of you and your fiercely humanist humans, are the ones who, besides having made it their nutrition to listen to their creator, have learned temperance of their egos and reverence for the divine—virtues virtually ignored in this increasingly virtual world.
© 2016, Amaya Engleking