The scope upon my selfish idea is minute according to better judgment. My simple wants designed to force me into doing what I may not even want to do, for freedom? To not owe could be freedom, to anyone. The banks wont like it, one bit, if you save and save until you buy a tiny box in cash. You have these years, of fitness, you hope, where if you design a strategy which seemingly will work, you can work earning more and gain the coins of a piggy bank.
You have to desire this sustainability. That your errors mean little compared to success. Some even lose morals in order to climb, up, up, the ladder, to own. In my realisation, without being ignorant, I suggest that there is no hero worship in just clocking hours. For the difference between building a wall and a space craft is huge, though when you have no food you will build that wall for the money coming and never enter space.
So looking at myself, I see a want to turn back time. I cannot, so forward into space I go. You can collect yourself in passage with a smile that although alone you are not dealing with currency of ego. The battle of the heroes is not a battle at all. For as death is the reward for a life you too shall live for today and tomorrow, scared that it could all leave you without a picture of you smiling in front of a picket fence.
One last reminder is clear enough. That successes are simple for the simple. Some may have warranted a lasting crutch. Aging into fruits for the future eyes. Most will concentrate on business and pleasures. The building and making of more of what was built and made. To sit back and relax after working feels good, that you deserved it. Who can take away your selfish need to have something for yourself, even as unaware you are of the forces that created your positions.