To write. Perchance to dream.
Do I want words or money? A voice or the freedom money can bring? Beholden to those with their fingers on the pulse of the wallet, while benign, my power, my freedom is compromised. Still a babe begging for bucks. Give me liberty or give me money. Money money money. Even those motivated by things way beyond money, when money is a passing fancy and way too fancy to be bestowed upon those working honest or artistic professions, even they feel hunger pangs and the longing to be free. Huddled masses, yearning, yearning.
Wild and free. No need for money. No need for yearning. If it comes it does, if not, stay wild.