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MAN, HOW I RATTLE ON
We Love Our Stuff But It Divides Us
California hot spots
Stuff.
We collect it. We donate it, buy it, sell it, give it away. We complain about it, brag about it, rub it in each other's faces. We fight with our partners about it, break it, and can’t remember where we last put it.
We have weirdly sentimental relationships with our stuff. Even romantic relationships. Stuff triggers us. Makes us happy, mad, sad, glad.
Marie Kondo tells us to throw out our stuff unless it makes our privates glitter. I think that’s what she said.
We have a crazy dysfunctional relationship with our stuff. It keeps us from each other. We hoard it, covet it, store it, hide it, show it off. We want other people’s stuff and we’re afraid they want our stuff.
Stuff. Whoever has the best stuff wins. Whoever has the worst stuff loses.
Some people present their stuff on lucite shelving and hide it in safety deposit boxes. Other people throw it out back and burn it. Stuff fills attics, closets, cabinets, cars, lockers, purses, trash cans, landfills, Amazon boxes, and proctology tables.
Stuff is mobile. It can be stolen from us.