I am going where I am going whether you can see it or not.
And. Look. The horizon is receding from me. I don't have time to explain.
(You had no interest in my language anyway.)
If you obstruct my course, a new one appears.
I didn't write this map; I was just given the eyes to read.
Or let's put this another way.
I own the house.
I decide who comes into the house, why, when they leave, why.
You don't own anything in my house because I let you through the door.
If you break things in my house, you leave my house.
There are no squatter's rights in this house.
I don't need you to agree that it's time for you to leave.
I built this house. It's mine.
If you were meant to stay, you'd know.