My wife says I’m hard to shop for. That’s not true. The stuff I want is just expensive and even if I had the money to buy it, she wouldn’t approve of most of it. Other than books, I don’t really buy too much stuff. I replenish my wardrobe of black t-shirts, black Chuck Taylor’s, and Levi’s on Amazon periodically. I don’t collect junk. I don’t need much.
I would be quite pleased to have all the stuff pictured in this post. It’s not like I don’t like having things, I just prioritize not needing things. I kind of hate how trendy minimalism is. People act like it’s a damn virtue, but it’s not. I get away with it because I don’t have any real responsibilities or kids. I’m a little less earthquake secure than I’d like to be, but for day to day living, I’m fine.
My birthday’s coming up, so I might treat myself to something cool, like some new boots or a revolver. I haven’t bought anything much for myself other than a few $2000 pieces of cadaver tissue I had sewn into my grill. As weird as it sounds, I’m in the mood for some shopping.
I used to make these lists in my journals about stuff I’d buy if I was rich. It was usually some sort of guitar equipment or movie making gear. Which is weird, because I haven’t ever been too successful at either of those pursuits.
All this shit I’ve gathered pictures of could be used in a zombie apocalypse. None of it’s really super rich guy stuff. It’s more like reduce with taste kind of stuff. Even the cool truck isn’t really that pricey compared to a new SUV.
Ultimately, what I really want most is time to read and think. I’ve been hiding out for almost two weeks. Doing nothing but relaxing on the couch before and after work, going through books. It’s always a pleasure to read. I wish I could say the same for writing.