new/old romance...

yesterday afternoon i whiled away a few fast hours at an antique store. a perfect sunday pastime. i picked up a whole bunch of old-timey sepia tone photos, the kind printed on super thick card stock. i've got the beginnings of a new obsession/collection on my hands. but they're beautiful and it makes me feel so bad that they're up for sale, away from their families, tossed aside. so i'm scooping them all up. my new orphanage. i've already got the ever-growing collection of busted up dolls that no one loves anymore. how goth am i! HA! or is it that fatally pathetic "wounded bird" syndrome rearing its manipulative head again? i'm a sucker for the broken and forgotten things of the world. i can't help it, they need a good home. my young, romantic heart taking control of my spending habits... i suppose it could be worse.