I related to your poem and also your words here. I have the same problem. Things. And instant gratification with things. I don’t need them, but I want them. I am always looking for something to buy for myself. I’ve always understood where this came from because I’ve been like this ever since I had money to spend.
It began when I was a child, and my mother would take me shopping for something new to wear as a bandaid to cover up the hurt I received from my father’s madness. Although, there were times I can remember that it didn’t have anything at all to do with my father; it could just be a disappointment in school. Maybe I didn’t get chosen for a part in the play. Maybe a classmate was mean to me one afternoon. Off we would go to Saks Fifth Avenue or Robinson’s to find something new and sparkly to chase the blues away.
So when I got older, I was always in search of something new. Years ago, it was a cute little top, a sweater or a pair of jeans. I could shop from ten in the morning until ten at night going from one mall to the next — often even several hours away. I was in pursuit of something. Anything. I needed to buy. Sometimes even a new pen would do.
To be continued in a longer story…