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The demanding words we all utter. It is the fourth cup of coffee on the other groggy morning that week. The extra veggies, black beans and guacamole on a burrito bowl. *drool* Or that mammoth of a computer we’ve been dying to have for years now. *drooling intensifies*

Consume. Consume. Consume. The guttural grunts of an insatiable monstrosity. It dominates and devours, finding only temporary satisfaction. Forever doomed to drone on to the next vain attempt at fulfillment.

The allure of an intriguing book or game is all too salivating to pass up. *Caah Ching* And what little money I have goes away, in small, harmless spurts of innocence.
This leads to nothing more than a shelf full of unread books,  a backlog of games that would make the most seasoned of players cringe merely adding up to an empty wallet.

‘I may as well get it now.’ The trickery. ‘I’ll read this later.’ The folly. ‘It’s like five dollars’ Ha, oh past me. The nerve of you for thinking such things.

Intellectually I know all the graphically endowed games that I could play won’t ever bring me true lasting happiness … but I still want them. In a way the idea of fun is more fun  than actually having fun. If I were a stereotypical old lady this would be my sewing, crocheting and bargain escapades at yard sales. I just go out and make a day of it.

I don’t think it’s wrong of me to want to play DOOM or Total War: Warhammer, which would melt my current laptop .Getting that large almond latte, over a lovely conversation, can be a real boon to a crappy day. The issue lies in the normality of wanting. The insidious pattern that develops.

The only weapon I can muster is vigilance. An awareness, by its definition, removes the mindlessness of incessant wanting; to pick and choose correctly. Maybe one new book/game for every two I complete – What a thing to master, right?

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