The Zero Life.

I love fashion.

Proving this point to shameless applomb, Fashion loves me too.

I’m an easy victim. I have a crater of needs nursed by a bucketful of insecurities; it’s so easy to show me how this season’s new sleek booties will help me deliver more kick in everything I do and stride the often nervy road of corporate awesomeness with great attitude.

Indeed very recently, I’ve sold my soul to a slew of online shops. They weren’t evil as much as I was needy. And over a couple of weekends and a few unthinking clicks, much cash has been splurged on the most needless of wardrobe unnecessities.

In a moment of quiet self-reflection, I had to awaken to the realisation of my utter abuse of and my unknowing but increasing dependency on financial and material successes that’s funding this zero life.

And this is how we lose control. First to what we call Needs; then to the things we hail as Significant; to Symbols; to Marks and Distinctions that are trophies proclaiming to the world Who and Where we are.

In my emptiness I am aware all this is not real. Or I should really be Happy now. I have a stack of new shoes, premium denim, very trendy tees and too much skincare being shipped by UPS Air Mail to reach me very soon.

But all I really want to do, is to fall down on my knees.

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