Even if you collect all the movies in the Criterion Collection or read all the The New York Review of Books sold today or analyze the point of Bisaya Short Films the way David Foster Wallace does, you still hope that these present passions may lead to future antiques and treasures. That is how Twitter, Facebook and Pinterest all started – the pursuit of passions.
You don’t even have to be a famous painter to take part in the business of generating growth of worth for your possessions. You just probably have to be just a hustler who can take all the money from your enemies at no drop or tip of your hat. But your karma will come, and that’s why you should never underestimate the pull of the conscious universe out to cause you an extreme sense of lifestyle reversal the likes of which only the death of Philip Seymour Hoffman can easily give a good example to.
Okay, so back to your stuff. You cannot stop yourself from buying books by The New York Review of Books because the spine-template is just so oozily good to compile in your shelves. You keep buying your Georges Simenon short stories because, hey, what are you going to do when you’re in France and you’re left with no one but yourself sitting in a bland cafe that exudes the feeling of rubbish ennui? So what happens to all those books that you leave behind to your cats to scratch upon? They become antiques and treasures of tomorrow, all ready to enlighten the next generation into what’s about to dawn on them in a several series of winters. Read this infographic to learn how this transformation of ordinary to antique runs.