Threats of Eminent Domain

There may be an expiration date on my belongings, which would be the day of my death, but you will not find this date printed on my backside as if I were some milk carton to be discarded. I think tattoos are disgusting, for one thing. Also, the grim reaper is not welcome here. There is no way for you to know how long I will live. I could die this very night or I may have a little longer to work things out. Either way, there are no guarantees in life. Some things that I could not work out in my lifetime may be left for the nephews to sort out in the next generation's garage sale but their time is not yet. For that you would have to wait another 20 or 30 years until they are established if you live that long. By that time, I imagine they will be men with families to feed and perhaps not so easily intimidated and disdained as are the women of my generation. I deeply resent all this intimidation and being put on a guilt trip by these eminent domain enthusiasts who only care about taking everything I've got and leaving me sleeping under a highway bridge with all my belongings heaped in a rickety old shopping cart so that they can finance their luxury real estate empire. My heart is not warmed to hear of all their evil intentions towards me.