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On wealth and materialism

I desperately need to find an outlet for all of the anger that is now pent up inside of me and I think this blog is probably going to go a long way in helping me calm down.  Anyways. One of the things that came up during my visit to her home was cars. Her brother has a keen interest in cars and suggested that I sell my aqua and put in about five million and buy a Mercedes. I asked him how was a Mercedes any different from my aqua. They are both, after all, cars. To this her father remarked rather sarcastically "well one feels a little something when they are driving around in a Merc that one doesn't feel when driving around in any other car". To this I said "Uncle, I don't see things the same way. To me a car is a mode of transport, it's job like any other mode of transport for example a motorcycle, walking or a donkey cart, is to get one from point A to point B. Cars are just a little quicker and slightly more comfortable". This conversation reminded me
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Costume Parties

"I was ashamed of myself when I realized life was a costume party and I attended with my real face." -Franz Kafka The penny dropped a couple of days ago when her father told mine that she didn't want to marry me.  I felt like throwing up, screaming my lungs out, throwing myself off the roof of the plaza, and stepping in front of a fucking car.  I felt like doing all this but then I thought to myself doing so would be the easy way out. I don't want an easy out, I am going to go down fighting, I am going to make something out of myself, something that she and her bourgeoisie family would desperately want and never have. Why? Why did this need to happen to me? Why after all that my family have done for her's did they still choose to string me along for a whole 2 fucking months or so before pulling the carpet from under my feet. Why couldn't they have been honest a couple of months ago. Every fucking day for the past 2 months I have lived and died dreaming of the
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