I went on a shopping spree today and got myself a miniature perfume that was extremely
overpriced. It's beautiful and goes perfectly well with my collection.
And what did I have to give up for this obsession? An arm and a leg, every time.
I do realize, of course, that I must put an end to this old habit, the coveting,
the wanting, and the desire. I really need a jolt to wake me, the sound of a
china dropped in a diner, the sting on the tip of my finger from a knife while slicing
a tomato, the hand painted map leading to an empty wallet -yeah, that'll do.
It's never going to stop, you know. The next time I come across another miniature,
that restless trance will take hold of me-- the festering of one's mind, and I will stop
at nothing until... either my dulled teeth reshape my fingernails or I possess the piece
to pacify my ungodly supremacy of self-indulgence.
© 8/21/03
|
|
|