It has finally arrived.
Years in the making and for quite a costly amount, too,
at last, the perfect package to distract from myself.
Is there anything so wrong in desiring such a trivial acquisition?
No. It is my desire. I am free to decide for myself.
Thus, of my own free will, I have ordered this package.
As I unwrap this gift, open it’s container and pull out this frame,
I take my first step in displaying to others what I want.
Oh my, how this fills me with such glee!
I would be quite embarrassed to elaborate on it
as I strut through the halls with a new perspective,
seeing the world and myself from a different lens.
Now that I’m done flaunting this fragile décor,
a truth has struck me like a car strikes a pedestrian.
I have been granted such a familiar, childlike feeling so quickly
by a thing. That arrived in a box. Attached to a price tag. Designed to disguise.
How can one derive joy in such a regressive gesture?
From such a demeaning misstep from what the people of today desire?
From what I so greatly desire?
I know I made this choice because it’s what I wanted
but I am not entirely convinced that this is true.
I chose to place this new filter upon myself,
but if my choice were to change myself, who’s choice has it become?
Have I empowered myself by choosing who I am
or have I simply given myself the luxury of selecting my own box?