The emptier my pocket had become, the more I resisted poverty. The more I resisted, the more I hated to have a full pocket. The more I hated, the more I wanted to spend and empty myself. There were frequent ups and downs, highs and lows. A desperation for living an extreme life. A circle of negative and positive, pessimistic and optimistic. A constant circulation between uselessness and greatness. A being within nothingness out of nothing. A burden.
The heavier a burden felt, the more a body desired its weightlessness.