I was just looking at my shelves, trying to rearrange some things. You know to make it look a bit tidier and I kinda just stood there. I couldn’t move. All I did was stand there and stare at one shelf in particular. I never noticed it before but now that it was sprawled out on one shelf, I realised I had an obsession.
It’s no secret that I like to write. I’m writing a blog for god sake! But ever since I could remember I had a journal. I would keep one and once it became full I would buy a new one. And so on. Until one fateful day I started to buy them at an uncontrollable rate. Now my shelf is cluttered with blank journals that won’t feel the touch of a written word against their pages. Well, at least not any time in the near future!
I have no idea where this obsession came from. It makes me think that I have a slight addiction to buying things that I don’t really need. Actually I think it’s become a slight comfort. These journals leave an air of creativity on my shelf. Almost like a constant reminder that I need to keep on trucking. Maybe the act of buying one is my subconscious screaming at me that I need to be doing something different with my life. Maybe it’s a crutch. It’s not like I’m writing up a storm in all these books. Who knows. It really does make me wonder why obsessions start in the first place. I do think it starts from a slightly broken place. Something that you aren’t really happy with or maybe even from a wanting/yearning to do something different. People get obsessed about a whole bucket load of odd things and I suppose I could have had a worse addiction.
For now at least, they will be collecting dust on my shelf. Hopefully I can kick this habit, because I definitely don’t have the shelf space for it.