The Hoarding of Words
My name is Brett.
And I hoard words.
My Eight Year Old Shopping List
| Kidney|| Clorox Cleaner ||Ginger (sushi)|
| Peas||Pickles (Big Jar)||Oolong Tea|
|2x Salsa||Brown Rice||Canned Pears|
|2x Chips||Coconut Milk||Mandarin Oranges|
|Toilet Paper||Maple Syrup||Green Pads|
| Paper Towels||Peanut Butter||Organic Sugar|
| Tissues||Coffee||Powdered Milk|
|2x Oatmeal||Lemons||Brown Sugar|
|2x Raisins||Powdered Sugar|
|Evening Primrose Oil ||Salt & Pepper Shakers|
|Milk x2||Cranberry Juice|
|Frozen Corn||V8 Juice|
| peas||Cat Foot|
|Spaghetti sauce||Jerkin Pickles|
| Good Sausage|
|3x Bread||Band Aids|
I'm Better Than You
If this short little rant has a point (or maybe it will be a long lengthy rant, I haven't really made up my mind on that, not yet, so I'll guess we'll see in a bit, but whatever, if there's a point), it's that's I am better than you; doesn't really matter much who you are; me, better; you, not so much. But, I can feel your resistance to the idea, as if my saying it in itself doesn't prove the point, right there. You see, that list, above, a grocery list, from like six years ago, tucked away in a folder on my computer... or not so much tucked away, as I just hadn't noticed it in like six years, not quite on my desktop, but pretty darn close, tidying the writing, I was, and I came across this little gem, '2x Salsa', and so on; pure distilled poetry, lyrics to my ear, the raw emotional power of that one line, coupled with the likes of '2x Chips,' it tells a story, of a time long ago (six years, to be exact), that comes back to me, now; and I, unlike a lessor man or lessor woman (don't get me started on the pedantics of it all, whatever that means), but a lessor, yes, best to just keep gender out of this, a lessor would have just deleted the tome... as if that were ever a possibility, do not these others, these hoarders of things, I've seen their houses, you know, their broom closets, overflowing, garage all the way full, the door shutting ever so nicely against the boxes, and the dark corners in their attics filled with broken dreams, discarded knick knacks, treasure troves of trash, yes, these heathens with their material worths, stacked in the hall, right by the front door, half the drawers in the kitchen overflowing with a lifetime supply of twist ties, rubber bands, push pins, nuts with no bolts, and pens, this one won't work, throw it back in, there must be another, ah, a paper clip, yes, these... these... humans (do I go too far in labelling them man or woman) or as I like to call them, mere mortals with their base concerns, now, they, these connoisseurs of the useless, might have seen this bit of digital documentatia, this datum from yesteryear, and have been quick to part company, to delete it, but not I, no, not I; there were two files, you know, a list one and a list two, I saved the later, the second, the more complete of the two; but not just saved, reformatted, rearranged, destroying it's historical accuracy, it's true, but I had purpose and that was so later generations might read it, stumble upon and behold the simple beauty, the purity of those words, 'Toilet Paper, Paper Towels, Tissues', is it enough to say that I lived on the edge of no where back in the day, a trip into town, worth every penny, the trunk loaded heavy... or would you have just tossed the list into the recycle bin, unable to differentiate the treasure from the trash?
Oh, yes, in years to come, when they ask, this is what I will show them, the explanation as to why I am better than you...
But I will admit,
for a second there,
I was tempted to just
delete the stupid thing.
Luckily for us all,
I just couldn't bring myself
to do it...
© copyright 2016 Brett Paufler