Objects i could tell

The things that are in my room, pinned to the walls, exposed on bookshelves, laid casually on the desk, (among the dust), all have a story, a memory attached, more or less emotional to me, nothing was bought only to decorate, i like to be surrounded by depth and meaning, i like to know why it's there and how it came to me, i enjoy knowing the adventures of how those objects reached me, it's not their shape or their value, beauty comes with the sharing of a past, but i don't need to remember it constantly, i don't dwell in it, i simply need sense and emotions in my life, to settle to what triggers me, consciousness and significance.

some of it :

a giant pink floyd poster

a square of cloth with bart simpson on it, (red veins were drawn in his big "bulby" eyes)

broken and twisted guitare strings, (a collar was made out of it)

old torn tickets from many concerts

little basketball figurines

postcards and books (some are the dearest to me)

an empty bottle of Ramune

flyers for a concert for My band eh eh

a Kronenbourg bottle of beer untouched

a little spiraling seashell

many pieces of paper

a raging hounds painted skateboard

a faded photo from an aquatic theme park

photos and letters

a box of cuddles

so on and more to come...as i feel it along my way, naturally from the present, and remember that objects and emotions aren't who we truly are.