and beautiful disappointments

I am disappointed with myself.
I swear, when I went to the mall today my intention was pure; to
see if they have Berkeley watercolour pads already and buy, if there
is. And then, I randomly checked out the Buy 1 Take 1 books section
(I was even having a headache!) and saw A Clockwork Orange by
Anthony Burgess. Since I didn't get what I wanted, I said:
"hmm..this is good consolation enough." so did buy it. Along with a
children's novel called Me And My Little Brain. And then i went
downstairs of the mall and checked out the pre-loved bookstore
there and you know what I saw? That silly-ly awesome Zombies VS
Unicorns anthology. It was quite cheap, with regards to the new
copy price, but for my prematurely developed purse, it was
expensive.. . . But still.. . . Man, it was the Zombies VS fucking
Unicorns and you know what, I never felt more cornered by some
evil succubus rapist my entire life. "If I buy this", said my panicking mind. My allowance
(that i just got) shall be divided to three quarters. With only one
quarter left.
So what did I do?
I still bought it.
Ohmygod mum i'm sorry i know how you were proud of your
bookworm son back then and now you just frown upon seeing my
shelves. I'm sorry mum, I'm sorry.
And i'm sorry to myself too.
I'll probably eat only those sidewalk-hamburgers now and lots and
lots of air.
I am VERY disappointed myself. Books just really have this 'thing' for
After all, i think they quite literally saved my life since i was a bit
suicidal then (see: all tumblr posts) and then i had a neat pile of to-
read books, which helps me keep on living. Sigh.
Weak is the Shin.
I am very very disappointed with myself.

These books better be good.
PS; and i am very very disappointed with myself.
PPS; do you think i need a psychiatrist already?

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