abandon

Sometimes I am seized with a great passion, and I anger myself with my poverty. There are so many books, so many pieces of art I want to hoard, and I have not the means to do it.

Perhaps it is better for the world that I'm thwarted in these desires.

Please just let me dance among what is beautiful in this world. Sometimes, I feel as though I can live for nothing else. The constant pleasures of words, of images, of form. How precious, yet how -

I just want it. And there's nothing beautiful in this hunger.

My greed may destroy me. I no longer know what is right.