Oh strange they are, the objects, all bowed and shined. How odd to see them again.
All the packets that bare their silver lining, the corners that dull and colours which fade, let them buckle to rust and then what; where will they be thrown, to trash or at the wall. No matter speculating, I just like for the object to stand naked and unwitting. I ask, should it be held this way or another, and it seems positive to not quite know, to afford a little uncertainty in protest to all else that is clear and trite. It’s an epidemic really, for us to see so much, the vastness of it all and with such great detail. Look at the brands and their boards, EAT MORE, the things keep coming, and the old is tossed away.