Junk Overload

Due to a Taurus Moon in the Second House, I have a greater capacity to love junk than most other people on this planet, but even my heart has limits. For the first time ever, I'm experiencing Junk Overload. I feel like I've eaten ten bags of Cheetos and watched all 100 Most Awesomely Shocking Celebrity Hook-Up Scandals in a row. My brain feel mushy and my body feels lumpen. The owl thing above just looks ugly, not funny. (Except for the 69¢ price tag.) Has the Clutter Monster who lurks in our Junk Dungeon taken a bite out of my very soul? I find myself singing the words to my favorite Merle Travis dirge as I take a pick axe to my ridiculous piles of debris:

It's dark as a dungeon and damp as the dew,
Where danger is double and the pleasures are few,
Where the rain never falls and the sun never shines,
It's dark as a dungeon way down in the mine.

I hope when I'm gone and the ages shall roll,
My body will blacken and turn into coal.
Then I'll look from the door of my heavenly home,
And pity the miner digging my bones.

I need a month long trail ride through the Arizona desert, with nothing to look at but mesa and sky. Oh, how gravity-defying and wonderful that sounds! My second, and more practical, cure for feeling overwhelmingly earth-bound is Diet Pepsi. The aspartame destroys angst-ridden brain cells and makes me happy again. But since I'm at that age when brain cells can no longer be frivously squandered, I try to limit my intake to one Double Big Gulp of La-La Brew per month. I just had my dose last week, but darn it anyhow, 7-11 here I come! There's a junkzine to publish!