Spoiled brat

Yes, I hate having stuff. I hate being middle-class: having enough money to buy things but not enough money to throw things away and replace them if I ever want to. I hate having too many keys to places and too many things to keep clean. Every object is just another un-important thing to worry about. So I gave my car to my sister. After having it parked on the street for about a week and a half because I just wouldn´t make up my mind in replacing the flat tire, getting all existentialist about how I was raised to be a lady and to not know the first thing about motor-vehicle maintenance because I would or should always have a decent male around to do the job, and about not feeling capable of handling suspicious salesmen that were most probably going to pick the most out of my naive pockets, I realised maybe I didn't really need the car and this was unfair because my sister surely did need it, as she goes to school and work and spends so much money on taxis and so much time quarrelling with my parents about getting a lift to places.

A year back, when my parents gave me the car as a surprise birthday present (yes, the 11-year old white ugly car was parked outside and wearing a huge golden bow) I couldn't bring myself to tell them I didn't want it, that I honestly preferred walking and that I wasn't used to driving anymore, I could't see the point. But they were so enthusiastic, and they were trying to be nice and make up and all, considering a few weeks before I had just told them I was moving out and they, not very justifiably, had yelled at me like there was no tomorrow. So I just used the damn thing. Of course only now I realise how used I'd gotten to driving instead of walking. I had forgotten how much public transport sucks here. I bought a bike and tried to use it as transport, but I forgot I don't live in Europe and nobody goes around on bikes here, and young un-coordinated girls on bikes equals angry traffic trying to kill you and horny homeless drunkards trying to get you. So driving wasn't that bad after all. I could go out by myself at night and wouldn't have too much to worry about. I could get to the other side of the city in 20 minutes without worrying about the heat. But somehow I couldn't help feeling a little bit uncomfortable, maybe a bit guilty about having it so easy.

Besides, I think cars are luxuries people don't deserve. Why should we ride around by ourselves all comfortable in our little air-conditioned bubbles for four, freewheelingly contaminating the earth and flipping through the radio stations, while everybody else struggles all day with the over-priced third world public transport system. Don't we all have two legs to walk with? Or am I being too idealistic and/or stupid?

When I was a child I wanted to become a nun. I was in love with the idea of having no material possessions of my own and spending all day helping people and praying and being good. Of course, when I found out nuns can't have sex I went off the idea. They really should leave that as optional, as much as they seem to leave the being poor part as optional too. Isn't avarice a sin worse than feeling healthy sexual pleasure?

What I wanted to get at is, my mother just gave me more furniture for my house. And I feel all rotten and spoiled. I wonder if I was too hard on myself in giving my car away, or if I'm so spoiled I don't appreciate what people do for me. This must sound so teenager-like. I always get all existentialist about these things. I just want to burn all my furniture and run away, sleep on the sand, hitch-hike around the globe and hopefully eat nothing but wild fruit.