Minor case of hoarding


Ever since I can remember I’ve been collecting things and saving stuff ‘for later’. It runs in the family. My grandfather has been an informed collector. His postage stamp albums were ordered according to printing dates, value or country of origin. His numismatics boxes were full of coins arranged with labels and individual separators and he used to read special books so that he could estimate the real value of his belongings, so that he may be aware of the history behind those metal pieces. He had boxes full of transistors that he never rummaged through, but always handled with the utmost patience and dilligently checked their codes with special magnifying glasses. He collected tiny jars and glass bottles. But he found ways to put them to proper use by stashing them full of colourful inks or nails, screws, nuts and bolts selected according to dimensions and features. He built (although he was not a talented carpenter) special cupboards in which he kept these items that he could have done without but which brought him an unexpressable pleasure. He had boxes with pens, fountain pens, quill pens, ball-point pens and nib sets which we sometimes studied together, used and placed back in their cases.

It is then, when he was very much still alive, that I started collecting objects of my own choice. Besides the stamps and numismatics ones that I tried to put together as a modest competitor. I was unfair competition, as he had to aid me with their evaluation and cataloguing. My childhood favourites were paper napkins, coasters, handkerchiefs and tissues. I joined in on the only common collection that we decided upon, my grandfather and I, sweet wrappers and chocolate foils. It was our secret pleasure to peel them gently off the edible treats and smooth out the surface with special tools (a particular pen) on a peculiar hard mat. I also started collecting match boxes but I was shocked to discover a while after the death of my grandfather (and sworn blood brother) that he had a huge collection of his own, a much more impressive rival to mine, as he had plenty of foreign ones that i had never even heard of (mainly from France). I collected cigarettes at some point in high school, as every adult in my family smoked (a lot!) and I had plenty of source material. this is precisely why I had such a vast option pool when i finally took up occasional smoking in university. I collected stickers and by the time I decided to glue them to objects they were all unusable as the adhesive had dried up. I collected envelopes and then I gave envelopes up for postcards. The story goes on and on.

I still have objects I hold on to, I still have the habint of not throwing out the things I no longer need, my house actually looks like a chaotic warehouse, but I am now biased to collecting memories and smells. That is why I write diaries in which I describe feelings, places, occurences and also the way these places, objects, people, forests and food specialties smelled when experienced.

However, it is because I often try to collect my thoughts that I run a blog page. And this is a confession I make after years and years of keeping it under the keyboard.



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