My current state of vulnerability sets possession at a term that supersedes any material vice. I miss possession more than anything right now. Right now in a place where I sleep in a hallway and function off of the belongings of two other people, having my own things seems more soothing than anything in the world. This isn’t a need for something to show off, but a need for a personal attachment to something tangible.
I first realized that this was in issue to me at work the other night. One of my co-workers offered me a metal water bottle that the club was giving away. I took it without a second thought.
The next day I woke up to see this shiny red water bottle staring at me. I continued on with my daily routine and headed to the gym. This time, however, I filled up and packed this new water bottle. Still in my mind this didn’t seem to abnormal, I mean who couldn’t use a water bottle at the gym. Continuing on in my day, I headed back to my apartment and threw my things down…only to see this shiny red water bottle staring at me. I decided to take it out of the bag it was in and wash it. I finished cleaning it and felt the need to fill it up again. I filled it up and took it to the couch with me where I worked on my computer. I guzzled down the water and still thought nothing about it.
Not able to consume any more water, I didn’t know what to do with my new friend…the red shiny water bottle, but I knew that I didn’t want to put it in the cabinet with the other cups and beverage containers. I walked over the closet where I keep my clothing and put it on a shelf.
It hit me at that moment how strange it is to have a connection to a water bottle. I thought about it further and figured it out why I felt this water bottle was so special. It was the first possession I had in Los Angeles. It felt great to have something that I brought home, something that I could use.
I realize right now how crazy this sounds—how truly, truly crazy this sounds.
The need to own something goes beyond this water bottle. I guess it was just the first item that has quenched my thirst for my own belongings (pun INTENDED).
I remember being younger and starting my first job; my first taste of money that I earned myself. I remember buying my first night out, my first articles of clothing and my first everything. This new freedom was something I couldn’t describe. Since earning my first dollar I have had somewhat of a spending problem. I never thought of money as something to save, rather it was a ball of fire burning through my pocket.
I am starting to learn why I’ve had this problem. It wasn’t so much that I needed the items I purchased, but I liked the feeling of owning something. I am naturally a nurturing person, so I welcome all forms of possession; be it an article of clothing, a car, or a gift for a friend, I get satisfaction from being the owner.
Coming out to Los Angeles has forced me to sacrifice one of the feelings I love and have loved from the start. I sleep in a hallway of an apartment full of items owned by two other people, paid by two other people. I have no space that is my own. I have no space to put anything that is my own. I’ve lost touch of the feeling of using something that is mine. It hit me tonight, as I was feeling depressed, that the hole in my life is possession. Until the future, I will love and care for my new shiny red water bottle.
Wild in transition.
1 month ago