Sometime yesterday when I was very, very busy doing nothing, I realized that each article of clothing I was wearing had a memory associated with it, a throwback to a previous moment of my life.
The white, short sleeve button up semi-dress shirt I had gotten on an unplanned excursion to the Eaton centre with one of my closest friends after the two of us had helped another close friend move into her new apartment downtown. After I got the shirt I went and got my nipple pierced, and all of this reminds me of mac and cheese because the colour we painted my friends apartment was the exact same colour as mac and cheese.
So much nostalgia from a few pieces of sewn cloth.
The pants and undershirt were both from Georgia, and the sheer weight of the good times I've had there could fill up several dozen blogposts. I even started this blog while there. It's a magical place.
I'm not advocating materialism or anything, but merely a call to introspection: think about objects that you are constantly in contact with, be it clothing or cars or cats or crayons. Anything that is so ubiquitous it has lost meaning; Now, find a memory associated with that thing, find that time it was there when you laughed so hard you peed yourself, that instance when you realized why it was not blue, but it was in all actuality, green.
Find it, think about it, treasure it, move on.
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