I have exhausted all possible places to shop in this tiny little dot of a country. And yet, that ideal bag could never be found. I have no idea what it looks like either. But at the same time, I’m rather proud of myself for having such an unattainable goal. I go out goal-oriented, looking for that elusive soon-to-be-mine object yet I never seem to find it. And the best thing is, there is no mood and energy left for buying other things. In short, I go home without spending a single cent.

But inside, I’m feeling very, very, very, very, very, very frustrated. Its like a treasure hunt turned wild goose chase yet you know the treasure must be somewhere. The kind of arghhhhh where you feel like pulling your hair out but you don’t because you know it never comes off.

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