Friday, February 25, 2005

Go Bleed Over There

Losing things is one of the most frustrating aspects of my life. I lose my hat, my gloves, my phone, papers, stuff I've borrowed, and other random objects constantly. I'm often seen cursing my way back to the place I just was because I left stuff there.

Usually people lose things when they deviate from their usual habits. Deviation from patterns that engrain themselves into our lives causes confusion and lost items because we'll set them down or dig in our pockets and then walk off, forgetting that we had left something laying about or fallen out of pockets and bags. Later, when we realize the object is missing, we can't recall what we did with it because it happened when we were outside of our normal routines.

For me: it's just being a dumbass. I can usually find them again, but I've lost my wallet about three times. I've now got one of those obnoxious chain wallets so I can't leave it someplace.

At the same time, I'm endlessly fascinated with found objects. Not the extent of, say, Found magazine (although they do have some amazing stuff) where they collect it, but more of a casual enjoyment. There was a beat-up sock outside of the theater building for about a week and I kept looking at it, making up something new.

Considering I've been caught staring off into space despite the presence of women I would probably rather be gawking at, me looking at random things isn't too suprising. Found shit is like people wathcing, but on a more minute scale. Making up backrounds and stories about people is fairly easy because you can see them moving about, hear them talking, that sort of thing. Objects lying on the street can be from anything, which is probably why I like looking at lost stuff in passing.



Blogger Jack said...

My room eats my things. I haven't been able to find my hat in weeks, and I know full well it's in this bastard somewhere.

I like found stuff.


12:59 PM, February 27, 2005  

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