What is the matter with me?? I am collecting THINGS !! Not normal manly things such as a three metre rock on the mantlepiece that has written all over it “Heavy! Man!” or engine pistons from 1905 dripping oil from shelves onto the Persian carpet. No !! Perfume bottles !! And not any old common or garden bottles but Arabian perfume bottles. Why ?. Because I absolutely love them ! I can’t stand three metre rocks or piston rings. They should be left plugged into the side of a mountain or a car engine and I don’t care which item goes where.
But I’m a man. I should sell my Granny to get a 1917 piston from a make of car nobody has heard of. Or spending a year dragging a ten tonne rock down a mountain, across a piranha infested river, up to the house, onto the mantlepiece and flop onto the couch for the next year with a six-pack at my side. Wrong !! I’ve got Arabian perfume bottles lined up like a beauty contest at Las Vegas. Maybe that is why I collect them, subconsciously seeing feminine shapes in all their glory, tantalising me every time I look at them.
I am never going to use them. I am never going down to the local Sukh to the perfume shop filled with the aromas of a thousand and one nights and fill not one of them. The bottles collect THINGS !! Dust and spider webs ! But the bottles seem to like collecting more of them every time they are dusted. They are not writing a post on their collections. I wonder why I am ?
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