We’re shifting, and in the process of packing I have found myriad of small useless colorful things which were perfectly hidden in the obscurity of my room. Old broken things that are mostly of no use, that deserve to be thrown away or given off. I would do neither. The narcissist me would cajole me to keep them only because they’re mine. The logistic me would give off wild persuading logics to put them in my prospect cupboard. The creative me would tempt me about the beautiful color they possess and how they would decor my room. The possessive me would take over and I would want to keep them no matter what.
I don’t like the notion of people collecting so many thing, and I don’t even like the idea of me doing the same. It make me something of a materialistic person, A lover of things – breathless, worthless, emotionless cold things, which don’t feel and cant love you back.
Also, Materialistic people are mean, they possess things and only things can bewitch them, fascinate them and ensnare them. I guess they don’t even have the capacity and desire to love people.
I will give off all, I think. I don’t want to be materialistic and I wonder if loving cold, bleak, emotionless, worthless but breathing people, who don’t feel and cant love you back, will ever make me one?
July 17, 2008.