possessions

we dont possess our possessions as much as our possessions possess us. today i broke (indirectly, my dad did the actual breaking) my brother's gaming pc cd. i feel sad about its desmise, if you might call it that... i somehow feel that things have a soul of their own, and by breaking them, i kill them. when i was younger, i used to fling my toys around when im angry, only to pick them up later and feel bad about it as though i had somehow hurt their feelings. following that id apologize and put them back to where they belong. neurotic? kinda i guess.

even now, when i look at toys i dont play with (which is practically all of them!) i would think they look lonely and pitiful =/ im seriously outta my mind! ok i gotta convince myself that the cd is doing more damage than good to my brother... but i still feel miserable. =( my goodness why doesnt that boy ever listen? i really wish he'll grow up.