My Sunday morning thoughts...   “Sanctuaries” They rise like fortresses of fortune, etched against the skyline— stone, steel, glass stacked in shimmering layers, palaces built to outlast time itself. Their gates never creak. They glide open only for those whose names carry weight like currency. Inside, the air hums low with comfort— climate tuned precisely, floors that shine like mirrors, chandeliers spun from light itself, hallways vast as canyons lined with gold-leafed words about generosity. They dine on imported delicacies, aged wines, discussing strategies for change , how best to guide the unruly world beyond their walls. Through rose-colored windows they gaze out, seeing only what flatters them back— poverty as a puzzle to be solved from afar, desperation as distant noise, a problem of policy, never proximity. They craft rules for those outside— codes, decrees, restrictions— shaping streets they’ve never walked, drafting laws with hands that have never touched a callus ...