Thursday, 12 June 2014
5 Useless Things I Don't Want To Get Rid Of
I own too much shit.
But I don't want to get rid of it. Because I've established emotional attachments to each individual thing that I own, most of which I will never have a use for again. It's all taking up space that I would either fill with other objects I don't need, or fill with nothing and gain a greater, more tangible feeling of emptiness in my life.
My top five things that I own that I have no use for that I don't want to get rid of in no particular order are:
1. My book collection.
I don't read books more than once. I can barely motivate myself to get through them a first time. And I try to avoid books that have sequels because I can't bring myself to commit that much time to something that is made up. I have a shelf full of pages I will never look at again. They serve no purpose other than to remind me that I once looked at their contents and may or may not have enjoyed myself/been changed profoundly. They don't even make me look smart like shelves of books often do for their owners. Too many of them are novelisations of science fiction films or Manga that I've tried too hard to explain to people aren't comic books.
2. My green clock.
I have a green round clock that sits on a shelf near my bed. Its roundness made it necessary for me to position it against the wall when I put it there to prevent it from rolling and falling. I used to reflexively look it at first thing when I woke up to identify how much of my day I had already wasted and how much more of it I could afford to spend lying down. I planned to replace the battery after it died but I never got around to it. So it just sits there now, waiting for its chance to roll away. I don't want to get rid of it because it still works, and because I still have fondish memories of waking up anxiously to look at it. It was probably the closest I'll ever get to being married.
3. The mouse trap beside my desk.
I massacred a family of mice a few months ago. I scraped their remains from the wooden traps and left them all to decompose in the soil out the back, from where I believe they came. Just to be safe I set the traps again when they were all dead, in case they had vengeful cousins or were collectively a part of some mouse Mafia. I left one of them beside my desk. I accidentally set it off and couldn't be bothered to reset it. It's been there since. Partially because I don't know where to put it. I haven't yet designated a place in my home to leave mouse traps when not anticipating prey. But also because after watching the first mouse die a primeval instinct awoke inside me and assisted me in disposing of the body. I was not afraid. With each new corpse came an increased level of apathy. Which has since dwindled. And I'm now afraid to go anywhere near the traps because they once had mice touching them and probably still have parts of dead mice on them somewhere.
4. My deodorant can collection.
I am unable to bring myself to throw away deodorant cans. I can still feel fluid moving around when I shake them. And when I push the button a misty cloud still emanates. Most of the time the spray comes with a weird white powder that ruins my clothes but there's still something there that can make me smell less bad nonetheless. And deodorant is expensive. Throwing the cans away would feel like throwing money away.
5. My flip phone.
Seven years ago flip phones were popular. They have since been replaced by smart phones. Which is ironic because one of the more practical aspects to flip phones was that their screens were protected when not in use, and as cellular evolution took place phones abandoned that feature despite smart phone screens requiring more protection as their functionality extended beyond simply displaying things. It's unlikely that my flip phone will ever be even turned on again, because I can't find the charger. It will probably remain in the top drawer of my desk until the end of time. Or until I decide to use it in a The Matrix cosplay.