(essay)

Your compliments are like music of coins for a homeless person. For him, there is no such thing as “money cannot buy happiness,” because for the same money he buys his life. These notes pleasantly fill him with oxygen, and the beautifully played melody adds to the desire to breathe. The more you pour coins into a box rich in emptiness, the more sense it makes for him to wake up the next morning.

He will sell his attention to you. Not because he lacks morality and honor. Because he has a talent for judging the value of the given. He knows how expensive it is to get the desired clink of coins among trivial old bills worn to holes. He will know the taunts of greed for your music. But he will never repeat the charm of your game that ricochets in the heart. This is what you call “I make your heart beats faster.”

I’m sorry I can only pay back with a cheap “thank you.”