I don't know what it is about the things that I think are important that makes them so irresistible. My judgement is terrible. Why would I think these things are going to make me happy? I'm never happy when I get what I want. I throw everything away: stuff, jobs, relationships, wives -- well, not wives, anyway, not yet -- and chase after the next empty promise.
I want to live in a big chocolate house where everything is made of chocolate. All the furniture and the dishes, everything. Even the toilet would be made of chocolate. Not crappy Nestles, either, but real Swiss or Belgian chocolate. The kind that makes your knees buckle and your nether regions tingle. I imagine myself eating all of this delicious chocolate whenever I wanted. I'd start with chocolate chip pancakes and Count Chocula and hot cocoa for breakfast, and I'd go from there.
Today I see the irony of such a diet. My teeth hurt just thinking about it. Today I see the things that really matter. I don't appreciate these things, of course, but at least I think about them now. It's not the stuff that's important. It's my relationships and my sense of spiritual purpose. It's the intangibles.
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