Complete absurdity

In order to look at the subjects of my posts, it takes a great deal of humility on my part. I speak constantly, repeatedly and roundly about the acquisition of material things to satisfy a very eccentric and highly-selective sexual appetite. I'm aware that my kink involves the use of and play with objects (both man-made and human), which gives the perception that i must have a bottomless wallet (or enormous personal debt) and an equally soul-less joy in buying/shopping/collecting.

Couldn't be further than the truth.

My mind is a battlefield under constant struggle between the opposite poles of a simple, ascetic life and the glossy, shiny paraphernalia of my fetishes. I do not own many books, music albums or movies, having reduced my once vast collection in order to have as few material items as possible. I believe that this world, this big stone exists for us to do more than just make a pile of products and trinkets. I'm troubled by how many lives i see dedicated to consuming material goods. I witness dozens of people toiling away at jobs that do not fulfill them only so they can catch the latest sample sale and parade around with this season's Gucci handbag. This confoundedness permeates my life.

I tend to only buy clothing for myself when i absolutely need it. Since it is my goal to contribute as much beauty to this world as i can, i make sure that the few outfits that i possess are handsome and well-appointed. However, should any of these outfits suffer a casualty, it pains me a great deal to have to shop for its replacement. I have literally entered a clothier, looked at a single shirt for 30 minutes, only to convince myself that i can do without and exit the store. A week will pass, and it is clear that the old shirt cannot be mended anymore, and i will trudge back over to the store, to finally make the necessary purchase. But this struggle doesn't end there. The instant i leave the establishment, with shopping bag in tow, i am overwhelmed with a sense of guilt. There have been occasions where i have bought and returned repeatedly the same item, over, and over again.

I have imposed this same leanness to my girl's wardrobe. Whenever she acquires a new dress or pair of shoes, she knows she must rid herself of an existing item - which at first she absolutely loathed. However lately, she has resigned herself to this rule's dominion, altering the timing of her own purchases to follow the shift in her tastes, happily replacing a pair of boring, old pumps with a newer, flashier pair.

At the moment, i am contemplating a very sizable purchase of an item i have been obsessing over for many, many years. Which means, we still haven't addressed the fog of hypocrisy that sits abated off the coast of Deity's shores. Believe me, when i say this, i'm very aware of the contradiction my words present - sentence after sentence. But, when it comes to something that satisfies my kinky appetites, i can almost not help it. When i look at this list, it takes every ounce of restraint in my body to not splurge and purchase every single item on it. Where is this chaste, virtuous and conscientious soul who cannot bring himself to buy a CD of music he's coveted for 11 years? Instead, he is replaced by a bandit who has put these abstract constructions on a strange tier that he believes will bring him euphoric jollies and thrills once he reaches it. (Let us not start the discussion about what happens once he has acquired all of those toys - what then?)

Perhaps, to some of you, this struggle is completely absurd. And that may be true. However, when you see the images coming to us of the struggles and hardship of those victims of the earthquake in Haiti, it makes you question whether or not we are really hear just to buy stuff.