Collection. It's such a strong force in my life. The feeling of raw power, of giddy pride, to sit and look at what I've collected and think: my collection is so close to being perfect. And when my collection becomes more perfect, I become more perfect. When a new object arrives, I slice the tape, surgical and precise. My heart races with temporal urgency, the blood thrusting within me. My breath is shallow and rapid. I strip away layer after layer until I hold in my hands, the next addition to my collection. I turn it over in my hands, inspect every angle of it, take a photograph, and in that moment I am perfect. I place it on my shelf next to its new brethren, and I am filled with satisfaction. It's better than sex.
The power of this lifestyle is that I can recreate this feeling over and over and over again. I collect translations of Ovid's Metamorphoses. I collect watches. I collect mugs.
I have a few fashion watches, useful if I need to throw an outfit together. I have the obligatory Casio F-91. I have an old soviet watch from the '60s, the kind you wind up, that one's my favorite. and I have a WWII watch from the '40s, scratched along the bezel but runs great. I have a little space where I display them atop my dresser, and my brother is 3d printing for me a watch display stand that can accommodate my collection and provide space for several more watches. The types of watches I buy, they express who I am. A different watch for each outfit.
It becomes an act of self expression. I can display my collection in my environment. The things I appreciate, the things I take pleasure in doing. People can enter my room and see my collection of Ovid's Metamorphoses translations -- it's the first thing that you see when you walk in my door, straight ahead on my third bookshelf. A pile of fourteen books, arranged from largest to smallest. I can talk about how I adore Ovid because he depicts characters in a state where they are reduced to their most basic elements. Terror. Hatred. Anguish. Desire. In Ovid the gods are cruel and capricious, they don't care about mortals or their feelings, they inflict senseless horrors upon us, and us mortals suffer as a result. We love, we hate, we die, we weep, every character is reduced to the things they desperately feel and want and need. Ovid cares deeply about the victims, he goes out of his way to focus on their perspectives and feelings. Ovid is a part of me. People walk in, they say "oh wow, this is impressive! Why do you like this book so much?" and I get an opportunity to share a little about something I am passionate about.
I cannot tell you how much better my coffee tastes when I drink specifically from mugs that I have collected. It brings me so much joy to see the mug on my desk next to me. Coffee makes my day 60% better, but I won't even drink coffee if I can't use one of my mugs. They sit on top of my speaker system, but I intend to get a shelf put up on my wall where they can be displayed. I have eight right now. Super Metroid, Wordstar, three mugs from the videogame Blasphemous (a game that I worship with my heart and soul), a mug with dogs on it that says "dog person", a mug with a character I like, and another mug with a character I like. Each day I am in the mood for a specific mug. Yesterday and today I used the same mug, but tomorrow I may not.
I had a special needs friend for a while in my early 20s, and he would collect pokemon cards. He would go through and show me his collection, and he was proud of it, and it was awesome to see him so happy. I know a lot about pokemon cards, so he and I would buy cards together and trade them. I don't personally collect or want to collect pokemon cards anymore because it's a huge money sink, but it brought me so much joy to share this hobby with him. I miss him sometimes.
Seriously. Find something you're passionate about and start a collection. It's worth the money. It's worth the time. It's worth the energy. You will not regret it.