post 8

Today I'll talk about my guilty pleasure, that exquisite feeling of being full, the product of any casualty or planned, that brings us joy and satisfaction, stuns us and join us in a state of semi-consciousness, leaving us vulnerable to everything around us. Well my guilty pleasure is to collect things from the street. Some time ago by a friend who studies arts discovered this strange disease that really arises inadvertently somehow to walk the streets comes a feeling that "anything goes". Guilt is the big problem, but not exactly what you collect or the fact of picking up trash, but because this is considered a disease. Usually classified as a compulsive disorder - obsessive, suggesting that those who suffer are tempted to collect and keep foreign objects. It also could be a mess and the irresistible urge to wash their hands hundreds of times a day or have a floor tiles Well in my case this is not hoarding if not rather I collect things that could have some use or aesthetic value and people do not notice that I use later, even if it seems stupid. In this process I have collected quite interesting houses but I have a bond with these things but if I ever co demonstrates them something. Even asillegando to reflect not regret therefore guilt disappears.