I was cleaning my room today and went through the stuff in that big box that was placed in the corner of my room, behind my couch. That's where I keep all the objects that I didn't throw away for one reason or another.
We're surrounded by so many things every day, some of which I’ve never counted as objects before, they merely existed. There are also those of which I've assigned sentimental value to. As I tried to gain some understanding of my attachments to those objects, I realized that I have a hard time distinguishing the notion of things that hold sentimental value from the useless things that serve no purpose at all...
I see that cute egg-shaped purple container: I remember I forced Thien-An to buy it and eat all the candies it contained just because I wanted the container. And the Winnie-the-Pooh cellphone charms, we bought almost all the astrological signs from the vending machine just to obtain my sign. I also see that that key chain I bought for my then-boyfriend in San Francisco and I don't quite remember why I didn’t give it to him after all. The toys, ring, lottery scratcher, necklaces, bracelets, watches, pictures, shells and other little things...
I came to a conclusion. Those things that I still keep in that box are really just the things that don't mean much to me...because the things that mean the most to me, I've actually thrown them all away already. Ironic, isn't it? Maybe because sentimentality are always somewhat related to baggage...
But that's just me.