So I've discovered
I have a strange response to self-indulgent thoughts.
I'll be daydreaming of traveling Europe, conversing with the natives fluently in every single language, lurking in the corners of dark nightclubs with drink in hand; simply hopping in my car and just driving, taking random turns on highways until I don't even know what state I'm in anymore; living in this gorgeous upscale high-rise condo building they're constructing downtown, spending my days staring out at the city, creating charcoal depictions of the dust and spiderwebs in the corner, and pounding out Nick Cave songs on a battered piano...you get the idea. And then when I snap out of it? Instantly my head is in my closets, hunting for more shit to donate/recycle/throw away.
I'm really not sure why I have such an odd reaction to these daydreams. It's not like they'd ever come true for me anyway. I only speak two languages and the second one is kinda iffy at best these days, nor do I have the money for such expenditures. Plus, my drawing skills are modest at best and I can't even play the fucking piano.
Yet every single time, I'm seized with revulsion and inevitably start trying to hunt down MORE worthless material goods to dispose of.
I'm starting to wonder...is it because I feel guilty for wanting to be so indulgent? I really dislike consumerism on the whole and like the idea of not having so many possessions, not to mention traveling extensively is pretty wasteful to me. Yet the thought of living an artsy, hedonistic lifestyle still holds some minor appeal. So is it just me trying to overcompensate for thoughts I find disgusting?
Part of me wonders if it's also not my reaction to throw roadblocks in my own way. I mean, I'm not completely all about simplicity. I almost fell catatonic in the winter of '07 when my computer died (damn BIOS battery). And I still go to Goodwill quite frequently and buy books by the dozen. But overall, I dislike accumulating unnecessary crap, and not having so much of it doesn't really lend itself to that self-gratifying lifestyle I imagine.
I dunno. I wish I understood my own compulsions. I'd like to muse on this more, but I've got to go through my old costume crap and make a Goodwill run. -_-
I'll be daydreaming of traveling Europe, conversing with the natives fluently in every single language, lurking in the corners of dark nightclubs with drink in hand; simply hopping in my car and just driving, taking random turns on highways until I don't even know what state I'm in anymore; living in this gorgeous upscale high-rise condo building they're constructing downtown, spending my days staring out at the city, creating charcoal depictions of the dust and spiderwebs in the corner, and pounding out Nick Cave songs on a battered piano...you get the idea. And then when I snap out of it? Instantly my head is in my closets, hunting for more shit to donate/recycle/throw away.
I'm really not sure why I have such an odd reaction to these daydreams. It's not like they'd ever come true for me anyway. I only speak two languages and the second one is kinda iffy at best these days, nor do I have the money for such expenditures. Plus, my drawing skills are modest at best and I can't even play the fucking piano.
Yet every single time, I'm seized with revulsion and inevitably start trying to hunt down MORE worthless material goods to dispose of.
I'm starting to wonder...is it because I feel guilty for wanting to be so indulgent? I really dislike consumerism on the whole and like the idea of not having so many possessions, not to mention traveling extensively is pretty wasteful to me. Yet the thought of living an artsy, hedonistic lifestyle still holds some minor appeal. So is it just me trying to overcompensate for thoughts I find disgusting?
Part of me wonders if it's also not my reaction to throw roadblocks in my own way. I mean, I'm not completely all about simplicity. I almost fell catatonic in the winter of '07 when my computer died (damn BIOS battery). And I still go to Goodwill quite frequently and buy books by the dozen. But overall, I dislike accumulating unnecessary crap, and not having so much of it doesn't really lend itself to that self-gratifying lifestyle I imagine.
I dunno. I wish I understood my own compulsions. I'd like to muse on this more, but I've got to go through my old costume crap and make a Goodwill run. -_-