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.