Some people have the urge to
hoard items of interest,
such as books, toys, dolls, pets, and more.
Among these individuals,
some have a very strong urge to
collect large quantities of these items—
far beyond what most people would own.
This can lead to excessive accumulation,
often surpassing their ability to
maintain the items or their daily needs.
But what if you have the means to keep them?
For instance, if you have enough space at home,
would you buy and keep 1,000 pairs of shoes?
These individuals often fulfill
a psychological need through compulsive hoarding,
accumulating items of interest
while showing a persistent reluctance
to discard or part with their possessions.
I don't know if compulsive hoarding qualifies
as a psychological disorder,
but I am certain that having a fear of
hoarding—hoarding phobia—is one.
I feel dreadful even thinking about
excessive quantities of an item.
The sight of such excess is even worse.
For example,
I find one Hello Kitty doll or one real cat cute,
but seeing hundreds of Hello Kitty dolls or
many cats grouped together at home would
seem awkward and even make me feel sick!
However, I have one exception:
hoarding HK$ notes never causes me distress!
_______
Al Stewart - The Year of the Cat
On a morning from a Bogart movie
In a country where they turn back time
You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre
Contemplating a crime
She comes out of the sun in a silk dress
Running like a watercolor in the rain
Don't bother asking for explanations
She'll just tell you that she came
In the year of the cat
She doesn't give you time for questions
As she locks up your arm in hers
And you follow 'til your sense of which direction
Completely disappears
By the blue tiled walls near the market stalls
There's a hidden door she leads you to
"These days, " she says, "I feel my life
Just like a river running through
The year of the cat"
While she looks at you so coolly
And her eyes shine like the moon in the sea
She comes in incense and patchouli
So you take her to find what's waiting inside
The year of the cat
Well morning comes and you're still with her
And the bus and the tourists are gone
And you've thrown away your choice and
lost your ticket
So you have to stay on
But the drumbeat strains of the night remain
In the rhythm of the newborn day
You know sometime you're bound to leave her
But for now, you're gonna stay
In the year of the cat
Mm, year of the cat
