Sunday, November 8, 2009
I have just had an epiphany. I am abuser of things in general. Not in a violent sense and not towards living things (myself notably excepted). It's more of a callous disregard for objects. I came to this realization when I went to leaf through a book that my sister-in-law lent me and I thought....."wait.....she READ this?" It looked like it just came off of the bookstore shelf. When I am finished with a book, it is folded and creased into a near origami-like state and has food, drink, fingerprints and probably dirt ground into it's pages. And there's probably some crap jammed into the spine as well. Crumbs and stuff. I could not in good conscious loan out a book I had devoured as it would likely meet the criteria for hazardous material. There is a gentle and refined approach towards life that I simply don't possess. My approach is more of "take no prisoners" kinda thing and this crosses over into my treatment of inanimate objects. I'm not just going to read a book, I'm going to pretty much destroy it in the process. I remember my mom saying when I was little, "Mollie, you are just a bull in a china shop, aren't you?". Well, it appears that I am a bull in the china shop of life, mom. I have a tendency to break stuff literally and figuratively. Maybe I will be like Peter Brady and try a new personality. I'll get back with you on how it's going.