what mattered the false love of the dead or the calm breeze of the warm afternoon. Far off in
Africa the sun warmed the desert preparing a weather to cause the warmth to disappear and fate held a love in the future, the love of a living person within whose flames no false love could survive. so it was that the african weather of fate would drive off the vestiges of the cool-warm spring.
It was Machivalli who laid out the conflict of virtue and fortune. It was Paine who gave away his world wide best selling royalties to spread his thoughts as one of the first abolitionists, mertiocracy, and the forswearing of wealth even to the point of poverty in support of public service laying the groundword for a moral imperative account from which subsequent generations would draw for 200 years before finally bankrupting it.
Even then I was enslaved by the words of fotune. Financial security, college tuition, family vacations, societal expectations, anniversary gift, christmas presents, savings accounts, investment capital, business acquaintance, cars, planes, ski-trips, gambling money, toys of every description, faster computers, bigger houses, swimming pools, the list of words tieing me to fotune and denying me virtue unending, seeming impossible to corrale. There were those who said that viture allowed a certain comfort to support ones immediate family, that provided only the gentleman would be sufficiently well off to pay attention to virtue, logic enslaving virtue in favor of fortune, for once you start down that road, it never ends.
The words of virtue are also eels in a pitch-dark pool. Love, companionship, writing, morality, mandkind, climate change, the joys of the self vrs the good of mankind, compassion vrs avarice. I drove a golden lexus, my heart full of avarice, shakled by the words of fortune without any more knowledge of the chains than of the future that was waiting for me.
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