Collecting money. Collecting knowledge and experience. Collecting books one has read. Collectors – kings of numismatics, chocolate-wrapper millionaires. Collecting fame – one more poem, one more rôle. Lists of women. Boyfriends in reserve.
The notches on a sniper’s gun. Collecting suffering – look what I have been through and endured! Travel. Chasing vivid impressions. Discoveries, conquests, economic growth. The one who has hoarded more is better, grander, more cultured, more intelligent, more popular.
When I found these two Macca comps over the past year, a pound each at the Lyminge Garage Safari and Canterbury Red Cross respectively, I already possessed: the latter on cassette; a CD of Wingspan, which includes every song on both records; 7″ or 12″ singles of each track (multiples in some cases), bar “Pipes of Peace” (which I own on its parent Lp).
What kind of sickness is this?