02-24-2007, 01:19 AM
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Join Date: Dec 2004
Location: Paper Street
Posts: 6,158
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Quote:
Originally Posted by DirtyWhiteBoy
The house I have in the USA (150 years old incredible house) is where I keep the bulk of my "stuff." Every piece in the house has been carefully selected and each piece comes from a part of the world that I have traveled to and returned with the item(s). It truly is a collection of my travels and the last 10 years of my life.
The living room is my favorite area. It has a "Shangri-la" feel to it with antique Buddhas everywhere, oversized plush furniture, teak wood and very expensive tables from various parts of Asia.
I have been away for 3 weeks and just got word that due to pipes in the ceiling bursting, my entire ceiling collapsed and just about everything in the room is totally ruined from water damage.
While insurance will probably pay for it, there are some things you just can't put a price on. It's not like I can run out to Pier One to replace these items. 
I'm so sad I want to curl up and cry.  |
I know how you feel, I've been there; and I'm not calling you shallow, but your situation reminds me of:
Quote:
You know, it could be worse.
A woman could cut off your penis
while you sleep and toss it out of a car.
There's always that. I don't know.
When you buy furniture,
you tell yourself, that's it.
That's the last sofa I'll need.
Whatever happens,
that sofa problem is handled.
I had it all.
I had a stereo that was very decent.
A wardrobe that was getting very respectable.
I was close to being complete.
- Shit, man. Now it's all gone.
- All gone.
All gone.
Do you know what a duvet is?
- A comforter.
- It's a blanket.
Just a blanket. Why do guys
like you and I know what a duvet is?
Is this essential to our survival
in the hunter-gatherer sense?
No.
What are we, then?
I dunno. Consumers.
Right. We're consumers.
We are by-products of a lifestyle obsession.
Murder, crime, poverty.
These things don't concern me.
What concerns me are celebrity magazines,
television with 500 channels,
some guy's name on my underwear. Rogaine.
Viagra. Olestra.
- Martha Stewart.
- Fuck Martha Stewart.
She's polishing the brass on the Titanic.
It's all going down.
So fuck off with your sofa units
and Strinne green stripe patterns.
I say never be complete.
I say stop being perfect.
I say let's evolve.
Let the chips fall where they may.
But that's me, and I could be wrong.
Maybe it's a terrible tragedy.
It's just stuff. Not a tragedy...
You did lose a lot of versatile solutions
for modern living.
Fuck, you're right. I don't smoke.
My insurance is probably gonna cover it, so...
What?
The things you own end up owning you.
Do what you like, man.
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