Of the decay of illusion

I distrust my brain. Apparently, it is a master at making things fit that are not. It shamelessly uses the imagination and invents stories like the Brothers Grimm did. Curtain up for my sweater drama. Recently, I bought an insanely beautiful, comfortable, and expensive Lismer made of merino wool. 100% Made from Swiss sheep and knitted by Mrs. Müller next door. My green conscience triumphs because I can even compost this thing at the end of its days. These days have come all too quickly, as my sweater gradually dissolves on my steel chest. My mother-in-law has saved it from final decay with the needle several times, and slowly it looks like the beaten face of a boxer with all its seams. But my schizophrenic brain skillfully ignores all of this because it loves the story of my wonderful eco-friendly sweater, which was produced in Ermatingen without deadly chemicals. The gray matter in the upper room even goes so far as to make me believe that I should buy the other sweater in the collection as well.

A wise woman once said that if we only see what we wish to see, we would end up in mental blindness. Before I step onto the world stage in another high-resolution organic sweater, maybe I should reconsider the purchase.

The other option would be to hold onto my beautiful story and take a sewing course to preserve my illusion a little longer. Eco sweaters are certainly not inherently worse than other clothes. The high price is more than justified to give workers like Mrs. Müller and our children a decent life in the future.