in defense of possessions and belongings

Your browser does not support the audio element.

12 Sep, 2023

me personally? i enjoy customizing everything i have.

i like adding stickers to my books, marking down important quotes, bending the pages, small sticky notes that help me when i go back to it. i like to put stickers on my credit and debit cards, my bus pass, my mp3 player, my school notebooks, my laptop, you phone, you name it. it relieves this sort of possesivness i have over my belongings, as if saying "whats mine is mine, you see all these stickers?! this is mine". i like to add enamel pins to my clothing and school bags. i love the feel of a worn leather strap of a watch on my wrist. i treat my belongings as sort of extension of myself. having tinkered and interacted with them so much to the point that these possessions sort of become part of me.

i'm not saying im a materialist, i don't believe i am, but i like having my stuff. i'm not talking about useless crap, rather, stuff and things that i have spent years curating to my taste. i still use the same keychain from my retail job 3 years ago, i still drink from the same two restaurant cups that i stole from the old spaghetti place, i still wear the torn up shoes i spent months breaking in (they were too small for me in the first place), i still keep up the 20$ print i bought from my highschool friend, i still sleep under the same discounted weighted blanket i stole from my first job. all these things, no matter how unconnected, are mine, and tell the unique story of me.

i think thats why alot of people attach meaning to a person's belongings after they pass. those belongings can perfectly describe the persons attitude, likes, dislikes, and story above all else. of course, physical possesions only have meaning if we give them meaning, but when we give them meaning, they become so much more than solely possessions. i dont agree with the minimalist approach, but thats a battle for another day

my dad and my uncle buried my grandfather with his watch. for aslong as i remember, he wore a silver seiko with a dark blue face. it used to break often. i remember stealing it off him a few times as a kid while he slept (i gave it back eventually dont worry). atleast every summer, he'd go to the repair guy in the neighborhood, either to get the cracked glass fixed, the clasp reseated, or the chain replaced. he was a very attentive and patient person in my eyes, and i think the watch reflected that. a man who, despite all the misfortune the world gave him, still had it in him to take care of his watch.

i remember sneaking into his apartment in may, looking for something to remember him by, something that i use as a memento of him. of course, i didn't find it, but i'm not mad. i don't even remember being dissapointed or sad about it. i didn't find out till later that when they buried him, they buried him with something that showed his character. the watch was with him.

anyways this is the song i was listening to while i wrote this. i signed up for the mitski ticket lottery for toronto, im really hoping to go.