the burnt shirt, the 12-year old tv set, and plane tickets among my undies

i do not have anything that lasts twelve years with me.

well, i have a couple of siblings (a 25-year old, an 18-year old, a 16-year old, a 12-year old, a 10-year old) but they do not count. i didn’t buy them nor they were given to me as gifts. (i and jesse used to fight over a scary looking doll when i was 6 and i pushed her down the stairs- certainly not a way to treat a gift.)

the reason i thought about writing this is because david replaced his 12-year old television with a flat screen LG tonight. his old piece was still working very fine; his hotshot brother just happened to give him a new one. imagine how many cricket games he watched on that old tv set of his. not to mention porn. and it didn’t look like its gonna fall apart in the next five years or so.

i do have a teeshirt given by my closefriend, jullen, when i was in sophomore year at the university (roughly 10 years ago). but the sleeves burned when i used it to take the pot off the gas range a few months back. so, yes, it is still around but it does look funny wearing a shirt with the left sleeve looking like it was roasted medium rare.

i am actually not surprised that stuff do not last long with me. i used to have a habit of burning things when i am done with them. it was a stupid symbol to mark the start of moving on. as if it really helped (it didn’t, really, but self-denial doesn’t have an ear for listening). i am also terrible about keeping or organizing things; plane tickets and time deposit certificates are sometimes drowning among the piles of underwear in my undergarments drawer.

do not blame my mother; she raised me well. everything in my life is my undoing. i am not always proud of them but they’re mine and i acknowledge them.

and in a twisted way, i find life beautiful this way: amidst the mess, the missing jigsaw pieces, the clatter, and the jumbles.

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