and engineer me a whole new wardrobe...
as well as to shut me up from all my...
"its not my fault my clothes refuse to go back to where it came from!!!! have you seen its living conditions !!! starving kids in nigeria get more land space then them..."
have finally realized that remarks made about my wardrobe malfaction...
is morally wrong and is politically incorrect on so many levels...
so decided to salvage whats left of my soul, after selling most of it to prada...
and make some good come out of my closet...
have donated almost 1/3 of my whole wardrobe to salvation army...
am feeling enlightened...
centred...
and at peace with both the fashion and starving world...
GODDAMNIT WOMAN!!!
i love you mother but if you make me donate any more clothes i will hurl myself out of my bedroom naked, and you'll have to find something decent from salvation army to cloth me during my funeral wake since all of my worldly possension have been donated...
tedious process of picking out who to give...
and who to stay...
i will stop refering my clothes to starving nigerian kids becuse it is distasefull and crude...
its like sending kids off a overly crowded 4 by 4 vietnam home...
have decided a ingenious way of finding out who to be sent off...
1. clothes i always wear...
2. clothes i've worn at least once...
3. clothes i seldom wear, but would always comfort be by knowing its there to give me that option...
4. clothes i've not worn....
5. and clothes i wouldn't want to be caught dead in public...
viola...
vicious cycle of giving fasle hopes to clothes by setting them in the same pile...
only to throw them back into the donation pile...
and hear my clothes screaming...
"you are a fucking tard!!! you will regret this, you will never see how good i look on you when you take me out of this 2 by 4 living condidtions!!! use that fucking thing...that fucking what is it... a clothes hanger goddamnit...may you be plagued with 7 years of overworn and overused clothes, and people will point disapprovingly and stare menacingly at your overworn clothes...
ha ha........HAH..."
while mother is busy fixing up my closet...
have made sis room into refugee teritory for my clothes...
whats that thing where you put poles up to dry your clothes on?
a pole hanger? beam hanger? hanging drying clothes device???
well...
placed 2 of it at opposite sides of sis room and a long bamboo pole on it...
had to place a third pole hanger in the middle of the long bambo pole...
to balance the sheer weight of my clothes...
apparently starving nigerian/vietnam kids wern't to starved...
and little kids look more like huge evil thugs waiting to snap the long bamboo pole like a tiny chopstick...
i feel more zen with my clothes all laid out...
no more trying to force my whole body into my closet to retrieve an article lost into the depts of the unknown...
clothes that are hangable (shirts/ jackets/ suits/ pullovers) is currently occupying 1/4 of my sis' room...
will negotiate a resonable price to rent out that 1/4 of room space to permanently store my clothes...
am disgusted with thyself with the amouth of clothes i haveth...
thou shall not wake up in the morning and whine...
"i have nothing to wear!!!"
thou shall not leave clothes lying around waiting for it to disintegrate...
thou shall try not to buy anymore clothes until entire wardrobe has been worn at least once...
thou shall wait outside salvation army and buy back my entire wardrobe..
so as to reunite my whole family...
and maybe a year later...
i'd be forced to repeat the whole painful process...
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