The Future

One of my favourite cartoons was The Jetsons. In my innocence, I didn’t realised the convenience of flying cars and jetpacks. Even having Rosie, the robot maid, is a luxury few can afford.

I digress. People were not just extolling the virtues of the coming digital age, but really putting loads of expectations, making it on par with the Industrial Revolution. But I guess not-at least not to me. Yes, things and information have gotten smaller and smaller, and the convenience of cloud storage and external hard-drives are hard to beat. But! Here’s a secret of mine:

I am an hoarder. I place sentimental values on every little piece of object I ever owned, touched, coveted, even glanced at. My writing notebook from first grade? Squirreled away in a chest in my parent’s house. Receipts of souvenirs bought from a vacation back in the 90s? In a notebook in a box in the ottoman of my parent’s house.  Elementary school textbooks (English textbooks, with short stories and poems! How can I tossed them? I love books, I am a bookworm. I love the smell of books, the feel of the pages [uncut or otherwise], the sound the different paper makes, EVERYTHING!), on the bookcase in my room.  I think you get the point.

The point is, I was looking through my vacation photos on my hard-drives (four and growing) and I was thinking, on one hand, it’s a shame that I don’t have my pictures in photo albums so that I can look through them whenever the mood hits, but on the other hand, I don’t delete any pictures. Ever. Even the out of focused pix or the bad composition ones. I hold on to them because I feel like, it was taken through my eyes, I can still sense the thought that went behind the photograph. I am not a photographer by any stretch of the imagination, but I feel like, it’s mine. It’s a part of me. And I can’t let go.

It’s a problem. Books I’ve read, long outgrown, still has a place on my bookshelf. Ebooks read and disliked, or even unfinished ebooks, still on my Nook and hard-drive. Just “in case I want to give it another go”, (side-note: I tried reading Jane Eyre five different times, but it is still unfinished and I still have both the hard copy and e-copy.).

The point of the post. (Sorry, I am not a good blogger, I ramble (hence my blog name), I digress, I go alllll over the place.)  Before, when things were regular sized and tangible, I could convince myself during every Chinese New Year’s cleaning and spring cleaning, to let go of some things. It’s hard, but I did eventually got rid of my math tests from elementary and junior high school. And some art projects that was made for my mom but even she said to not be so sentimental and chuck them.

But now, in the digital age, I may have gotten worse. Each of my hard-drive are over 1 TB, I have online journals & blogs AND physical, handwritten journals & notebooks. Plural. Sketchbooks. Planners. Scraps of paper with notes written on them. And this is just one aspect of my life. I keep all and sundry.

How did I get into this? Oh yeah, looking through pictures.

Just to prove my point, here’s a picture of a stationery set that my Aunt Pianca gave me when I immigrated to the US. (Taken just now with my phone, hence the crappy resolution.)

I kept it in it’s plastic wrap for almost twenty years (see the year? 1989). Not in use, just sitting on my desk. And now it’s finally being used. Well, only for holding my writing instruments. I don’t actually use the mechanical pencil nor the notepaper that it came with. The tiny bottle of glue dried up a long time ago.

There’s no way to end this rambly post. I think I made my point very, very clear. Hi, my name is Mortie and I am an hoarder, a sentimental romantic.


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