Trippin’ antique!





Have you seen it? What we sometimes value? Maybe antiques? They had a life or several lives before. We cherish them by placing them on a pedestal. We have made them holy in human sense. “Set apart”, without function, meant to be used, attended to at will. It is something you hide where no one else can enjoy unless you do and when you want to.

But at what cost? It’s function: pleasure! Purpose fascinates me.

I was contemplating my state of aloneness as I do ever so often when I would love to catch a show or go for a walk with company. What around me is found alone but what is rare, protected, hidden. Am I hidden to the world? What hides me? Who brings me out for show? And some have a few times before. I have been a secret, not to be placed on display. Cherished beyond measure, a prize, much adored, to be enjoyed privately and paraded to just a few. I am holy! Human kind of holiness.

In my rarity, I am an antique, too frail to be played with, a little broken though mended. I’m good to have around, enjoyable but I don’t blend in well.

I am rare what can I say?