Its just a mug.
The other day, I was talking to my sister, and I started thinking about objects. More specifically – everything I’ve ever owned. Yeah, more specifically.
I’ve owned a lot. Even in my late teens, I’ve already managed to gather a substantial variety of things over the years. And all of them kind of mean something. Some of them mean a lot to me, others not so much. But its the ones that mean a lot to me that are interesting.
Its just a pair of earrings.
The top row of my bookshelf is filled with books. I mean, all of them are filled with books, but this one is different. I probably will never read these books again. But yet, they still sit there?
Sentiment.
I keep these books because they mean something to me. I don’t know why, but I once loved them. I can’t bring myself to get rid of them.
Its just a book.
And its not just with books. I have old workbooks (okay more books) from my younger years at school. The work is useless to me now – but still I keep it.
Its just another object.
Its weird how we have these attachments to things, that really stand for very little.
SIGNIFICANCE
OF
OBJECTS
FOR MORE
CAI BURTON WONDERINGS: