It's wicked to mock the afflicted

When I moved here, I sold everything. Right before I left my rent was paid by eBay and a garage sales. I would sell a shelf load of my books to the used book store and it would be enough to feed me for a week. When gainfully employed with a salary, crap seems to accumulate in one's abode like dust. Books, bizarre cooking contraptions, useless electronic gadgets. It was a nice feeling to just clear it out and leave it all behind. The only thing brought over to this isle was my clothes. Since then, I have tried to live a more ascetic life. I hesitate to buy those tempting tidbits. Not out of any deep moral conviction. I'd love to clutter my life with crap once again if only to experience the sensation of getting rid of it once again. No, mainly it is because my remaining here is tenuous. Someone has drawn imaginary lines and since my birth took place outside of those lines I do not have any claim to remain. So, I have avoided major purchases for this reason. Lately, it has been different. I have been buying little comforts. Unconciously nesting in the hope that I can stay. Nothing extravagent, but just little things which seem to be telling myself, "Yeah. let's stay for a bit." fingers crossed.