So, yes, I bought myself a flashlight.

[fflo]

This is my new flashlight:    

Tonight I was thinking I might buy me a blanket. I've never bought myself a blanket. I've bought a lousy comforter, and gone in on a good one, but never a blanket. And I like blankets. I have several that are cast-off, hand-me-down, gifted or inherited, and one that was pilfered. "pilphered"? Wasn't me what swiped it, anyroad.

I was thinking I might buy me a blanket that I pick out for myself.

What else shall I think of buying me? And why? And so what?

I hate that mockingbird song. Always have. If you know the one I mean. It's supposed to be a lullaby, but even though it has a structural thing a child might tend to like, it sucks. I don't mind the grammar at all, but it's sing-songy in an annoying way, and the stuff mamma's gonna buy you & what goes wrong with it---that stuff's stupid. And the whole idea of it, that's the worst part. Not cuz it's capitalist, but cuz it's a lie.

I shall now say something cheerier so as not to end on that note.

"All misery and all happiness are of equal value." --Ajahn Sumedho

Comments

[shmizla.livejournal.com]

"a pressing need to iron:" like that one.

that whole generation of ironers--lost on me. i think my mother was about the lasting nature of natural fibers as well as their "health." i seem to feel that logic as correct myself, although i have ventured into some synthetic items. but rarely close to where sensitive skin is.