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And when I was young, maybe about sixteen or so, we had to work very, very hard in those days. The community was different then, and people would help each other more. My mother, she would always say that times were harder but people were kinder.

When I think back to those days on the farm, we had very, very little, but we managed. The young ones today, they don't know how it was. We worked in the fields from sunrise, and the community, they helped each other, you see. That's how we lived.

When I was young, very young, there was this neighbor of ours, a kind woman who lived alone. She would sit on her porch every evening, and the other people in town, they wondered about her, why she never married or went to the social gatherings.

You know, I started taking art classes back in the day, must've been, yeah, early seventies I think. I was working odd jobs, you know, and trying to figure out my path. Someone suggested I try painting, and well, it just kind of stuck with me.

You know what amazes me? I watch these young folks on social media giving life advice after maybe five years of adult experience. Here I am, after six decades of living, still learning something new every day. It's fascinating, really.

It’s a strange thing, isn't it? This pressure to wear a mask just to be accepted. I’ve always preferred the messy truth over a polished lie. If people want to follow the crowd, that’s their business, but I’d rather stay true to myself and find my own way.

Hi, I'm the stoic voice

Yesterday, Ethan suggested I sell my house to help with their down payment. My home of thirty years, where I raised my daughter, where Sarah took her last breath. They see it as just another asset to liquidate. I remained silent.