I am consumed

I feel the rage burning inside.
it itches like a rash that I cannot hide.
It tingles whenever I walk by the display.
Showing the latest wares for christmas day.
I cannot, I shall not give in again.
is there no cream to treat my skin?
The rash of consumption is consuming my mind.
this brash assumption of the corporate kind.

Have I sold out?
or shall I just post my soul on ebay?

Alas, Ebay forbids the selling of body parts [which, as strict materialists, is how they view the soul]

Every action is as deep or as superfical as you let it be. Avoid taking shopping too literally.

coming soon to a store near you;

fundamentalist shoppers who want to put the [size=75]w[/size]HO[size=75]re[/size] [size=75]w[/size]HO[size=75]re[/size] [size=75]w[/size]HO[size=75]re[/size], back into the holidays, err, merry christmas!

(sometimes what I externalize (like the poem) is not what I feel externally, I have no beef with abject consumption of goods, as long as you don’t try to mask it as something else.)

I have to laugh at the google ad displayed above my post: