February 12, 2012

• It makes me sick

  Sometimes, I look around myself and stare at all the stuff I have.

  A closet full of expensive clothes, hats that cost $30 a piece, and too many shoes than I know what to do with. 

  Then I look at the thousands of dollars of electronic equipment that adorn my desks, walls, floor...

  I walk around my house and take note of the nice rugs, ornamental elephants, and glittering chandeliers. 

  Sitting in my car, I feel it's plush interior and smooth, unobstructed ride. 

  I am by no means wealthy, but I look at all this stuff and still feel... sick.

  What the heck am I doing? 

  Surrounded by all this junk that cost countless thousands to afford while the world dies. 

  Only through hyperbole was I reminded of the lavishness I live in, even if I am of only the middle class. 

  I am by no means rich, but that's only relative. I am rich. I am gluttonously rich in fact.

  And while the world dies, what do I do?

  ... nothing.

  But I know what I will do: I will spend countless thousands on more stuff, on more junk, to line my walls, cover my body and make me "happy". 

  Still, in the end, I feel so sick.

  All these things don't make me sick. No, these material things can't make me sick.

  I make myself sick.

  At my inaction, and continued action.

  It makes me so sick.

  • 9:53 pm
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