The price of words.

The price of words. 

There are people who always promise. They wake up with promises, they go to bed with promises. "I'll take care of it," "I have an idea," "this could be very useful," "it will be good for you too," they say, and in the meantime the silence around them grows. Because anyone who listens knows: these words are empty. They carry disappointments, not actions. I was like that too. I thought that if I remained silent, they would understand. But they only demanded more. They saw my silence and thought that there must be a reason. Because if someone has something, you can ask for more. After all, they don't protest. They don't say no. And suddenly I realized: they are taking advantage of me. But strangely enough, this didn't change me either. Because I still help. Because I know: even the poorest person can promise - just not to me! I don't promise, I do what I can. Silently, upon request. I don't explain. I don't polish myself. Because what's green for me is green. What's black is black. I don't play with colors. I don't shape reality. I just am as I am. And for those who don't like that, maybe they're not looking for me, but for another promise.star_border