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"You are like a badger protecting your food and I'm this little bird just at the edge pecking at your left overs. You'd crush my bones over the scraps I covet. He showers love on you in abundance, more than you want, and more than you could ever consume. But you would rather his abundance be wasted, rotting on barren ground, than for me to even have a single meager scrap. What is a discarded morsel to you? It is a feast for me. That's all I want, to live here at the edge and be happy with the scraps you leave behind."