It torments me to think about those chintzy Briseis
No point doing that again again
It's not his problem
Not their problem
It's yours, and yours only
You better work
You better love yourself
You better think about yourself
Because eventually the only thing left for you is you
And your mom, of course
And your dad, and your little brother
And a couple of good friends
Because they will love you nomatterwhat
They'll be your Electras, when you are Orestes
And in the variegated variety of all other cases
You must be self-sufficient.
Ready to leave and ready to be leaft.
Ready to be leaft to yourself.