We came to this world for rent. And we pay the price every day. Life is redeemed by deeds, with bitter lessons, with love for strangers. Life is worth it! How much will you pay? The value is different for everyone. You can forgive your enemy— it depends on how much you will love. Why do you think it's a gift? Was it simply given to you for merit? Waste a single day, you lose so much; you lose an awful lot. Don't accumulate things, accumulate simplicity, fill yourself with emotion and joy. And if you hold it until night, give it to a friend when morning comes. There is no one to save you from the grave. And time runs mercilessly on. You don't need houses and cars, and someone to love you. You came to this world for a brief while. You have no need to build palaces. Build hope, faith, kindness. Create life, long for freedom. And believe that beauty is truly sorrow. There is nothing more beautiful than today's sunset! Set yourself with dignity, without guilt— And with a strong and generous smile. Live so that on your last day, your children can walk with pride, your enemy bows his head, and you see the heavens weep greatly.
# This World For Rent The landlord has hung up his sign— *For Rent: One World, Slightly Used* The carpets are worn where millions have walked, the walls bear the stains of countless sunsets, the plumbing groans with the weight of all the tears that have passed through it. He shows the property on Sundays, pointing to the cracks in the ceiling with the casual pride of a man who has never had to live beneath them. *Low maintenance*, he says. *Just needs the right tenants. People who understand that nothing lasts. People who know how to leave things as they found them.* But we have already moved in— rearranged the furniture, painted the bedroom walls colors he never imagined. We have worn our own paths through his hallways, hung our photographs where his hung, filled the emptiness with voices, with laughter that echoes like we own the place. The lease says twelve months, or maybe it says forever— the fine print was always hard to read. But we are changing the locks anyway. We are calling it home.
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