i don't care how that shirt will bring out my eyes and slim my waist. i don't give a flying fuck about little daisy stickers to decorate my pistol.
i don't want the chairs to match each other. i don't want to furnish/decorate/perfect anything. not my residence. not my self.
if i don't have it, and if i'm not seeking it, i probably don't need or want it. you have nothing to show me that i'll think is fabulous. you cannot appeal to my tastes, so don't try.
my tastes are not something you could begin to understand.
i'm not spending a cent i might have on anti-wrinkle cream, the world's greatest vacuum cleaner, and pre-designed scrapbook pages.
i dreamed i was told to make a collage on a wall, but all the pieces were already there, scattered all over the wall where all i had to do was rearrange them. i didn't get to find them myself, to pick them out myself.
the creative world had become like a tourist venue, others who got there first telling me what i should get out of it.
like the vendors and salesmen with the audacity to try to tell me what i need.
what I need!
you don't know what i need. i need next to nothing.
you can't make me feel pretty. you can't make me happy. you can't make my life easy. you can't make me smart. you can't make me strong.
only i can do those things.
you think i want everything done already for me. you think i want you to tell me how to make my life rich/meaningful/interesting.
you think if someone else has something, i'll want it to.
you think i desire such trivial things.
your perception of me disgusts me.
were you a person, i would disown you. were you an object, i would discard you. recycle you into something better, more useful.
but you're an abstract concept. you're the stereotype of people in my country. brought about by desires we never learned to fulfill on our own, desires created long ago, which may once have had honest roots but have grown out of control, into a monster.
we're taught to need things we don't. and no-one knows who teaches us these things. like creatures lost in the dark, children who don't realize their world is an attic.
we seek but we do not find. we do everything we think we're supposed to and remain unfilled, wondering why, seeking ever more and more.
and we say we want to conserve resources. recycling is good, yes. alternative fuels, great.
but here's something i realized long ago:
if we want to keep having a world to live in, why don't we stop producing and buying so much useless shit?
- - -
you don't need that cover-up for your face. if you want to get rid of your money so badly, buy a sandwich for a homeless person.
why in the HELL would you want to cover up your face?
you're beautiful as you are.