I am a starter of things. A collector of hobbies. Compulsively grass-is-greener and oh-so-fucking-easily distracted. I lack possibly every modicum of discipline and self-control. Basically, I’m a big fucking child. Honestly, I can hardly walk down the aisle of a supermarket without thinking “Ooh, I AM really in the mood for a pomegranate. In you go..”, “Now, I don’t need half a dozen jars of salsa, but at that price, I’d be crazy not to.” No dude, you already are crazy.
I am an advertiser’s dream. I sell shit to myself. Just point me at something and tell me that it’s slightly different to the thing that came before it and I’m golden. And then something else comes along and I drop the original thing, whatever it may be, and leave it to collect dust whilst I get my “THIS IS NEW AND SHINY AND COOL!” kicks from the new thing. Then that wears off and the cycle repeats itself. It’s financial masturbation, and I know it’s wrong but-OH-LOOK-A-SALE! Deferred gratification is not my bag.