Dear Diary,
I'm so into collecting. I love collecting stamps, but haven't for years. The stamp glue got all over my fingertips, and then my clothes and my face. Stamps suck. Anybody I meet that has a stamp collection, I tell them they're stupid.
I've also collected pictures of animals. If a friend had a picture of their pet, I'd ask if I could keep it. If they said no, I'd asked to borrow it and then never return it. If a friend refused to lend me their picture, I'd ask to borrow their pet, just until I was able to take a picture of it.
One night, I woke up from a nightmare where hundreds of dogs were barking and hundreds of cats were meowing and hundreds of hamsters were running on hundreds of hamster wheels. I screamed at the top of my lungs, and proceeded to throw all my pictures out into the backyard and then set fire to the hill of photos, still screaming and screeching. I was still half-asleep when the fire department showed up. When they accidentally hosed me down, I fully woke up, and cried and screamed and screeched all over again as I realized that all my pictures were gone.
I've collected other people's chipped dishes, blades of grass, string and left-over Chinese take-out. One common theme has run throughout my every collection: I have no clue what to do with all the junk once it blocks every exit of my house. I've just gotten rid of my hot water tank collection and want to try something new. I'm thinking apartment building incinerators.
No comments:
Post a Comment