Just a lil ole hobby

"HA HA Speed, you get no photo this time, HA HA!"

In the dark recesses of the back corner of the top drawer of my toolbox at work lurks a small white plastic box. And for those brave enough to dust off the top of it and slowly open up the creaky rusted plastic hinged lid will gaze in horror at the contents inside ..... severed human hand! Muhahaha! Oh, wait a minute, I'm thinking of a different box in a different drawer, sorry, my bad. The contents of this box are almost as horrifying, it is full of damaged and mutilated .... coins (that ended up being underwhelming.) I collect the rare coins that I find which are damaged beyond use in vending machines. Some have been deliberately hurt by persons unknown but ended up still being spendable and I received them as change at some shop, others I have found lying in parking lots. But each one has it's own unique personality to it, and have been abused and mistreated and have become outcasts in the monetary society and most people would call them monsters because of simply what they are.

I keep them because they are a lot like me. Most of my damage has been to my mind and what is left of my soul, although I also do have a decent selection of physical scars from working in a factory around sharp metal and dangerous tools everyday. Every so often when I feel like giving up, I will dig out my box of coins and look thru them. Even with all the damage they continue to endure. Even with the shape they are in, if I chose to I could take them to a shop and spend them. There is some sort of clever metaphor about despite the damage we receive we are still vital and functional members of society, although for me it tends more towards that even though I may be a monster (or half demoness to be accurate) that I am able to jump into circulation at any time and be a useful asset to society, and although I may gain a bit more attention than the average coin because I am a tall girl (and act goofy as hell) I still get viewed as just another coin.

(Afterthoughts)
Yes that was a speed racer joke. And there was your half assed mysticism wisdom to get you by until the next random encounter.