Grew up in a family town. I remember collecting basketball cards, not that I knew anything about it. I just liked the sound of the word “collection”. Then I tried Pokemon for a while. Then Pog. Remember that game? I liked it because it made me feel like I was one of the older kids. I also felt like I left the world every time I played. I still remember holding the pieces. They felt so perfect in my hands. They reminded me of UFOs and perhaps that’s why it always felt so otherworldly. It was not until later that I found out collecting is not necessary and that it is possible to love just one thing. This was right about the time I learned that a noun was a person, place, or thing. So I changed my mind about loving, and decided it was possible to love a noun so much you don’t want another. And I called it the end of worry.
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