the door to nowheresville
i've always said that drugs are a ticket to nowheresville. i don't know where i got that saying... probably television, since it has the propensity to ruin great minds. obviously, it got to me. shucks.anywho, my point is... is that there is a key on my desk that the realtor gave us, and i have no idea where it goes. but i don't want to give it back, in hopes that i'll find out what it's true purpose is. joe and i have tried all the locks in our house, even the dead bolt, and it doesn't fit. it probably belongs to someone else. but i still have hope.
i've been thinking a lot in metaphors and comparisons recently. i think this relates to my attitude towards hoarding. i say i don't like the idea of it, yet i continue to pile, pile, pile things i don't need. will never use. it's not like i've never used them... i have... but my interest or liking for them has expired. it's kind of like this key. i'm going to grow out of searching for where it goes, in fact, i kind of already have. yet i keep it, because one day i hope i'll use it. i need to find a salvos down in this area...
No comments:
Post a Comment