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Let them have it; it's theirs

 Beauty goes out of the world and it's only the beating of flesh that fills the air. It's only the moaning of some whore made good by the bank balance of a richer man. Let them bang on at it. Let the flesh smells rot the air. As for this withering part of the tree, As for me:  I will enjoy the last rays of the sun.  People are such a disappointment.
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Be more selfish with your time

Literally and for your own survival, be more selfish with your time. I have a headache and my eye isn't working properly and I asked Clarissa how she was. She gave me hardly a nod and mouthed OK.

Well OK then. I don't ask you about your day any more either. The social system is not my baby. It doesn't care about me and I don't care for it. Hardly a day goes by without some brush with disrespect.

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