Why We Cling On to Our Material Possessions

Last night I decided to go out for once, and almost lost my sweater in the process. I searched frantically for it. Even then, in a sort of drunken daze, I realized how strange it was for me to be so distraught over a sweater. Much to my relief, I did eventually find it, although the strangeness of the situation stuck with me.

I was brushing my teeth this morning when I remembered the ~10 minutes of distress I had gone through. Why? The sweater wasn’t particularly nice; really it was rather ratty as I’ve had it for years and years. I told myself I could just buy another one, but the thought held no assurance for me. This sweater was special.

I’ve worn this sweater many, many times - it’s been with me since high school and accompanied me to several countries. It was on me as I laughed at jokes with friends I don’t see anymore. It was often the only thing providing the comfort of familiarity as I found myself submerged in an unfamiliar social setting. For the short time that I lost it, I recalled events which happened years ago that I had forgotten I’d known. These memories do not belong to me, instead, they’re stored in the threads that weave together: neurally, naturally. Every loose knot, every pill, every unconquerable stain is a reminder of who I once was.

Amidst all the change and uncertainty in our lives, sometimes material objects are the only constants.

Hello World!

I’ve always wanted to start a blog, but it’s such a daunting idea to put your thoughts out there for the world to see. It helps to know that not too many people will come across this anyhow, so I’ve decided to embark on this journey!

I was actually planning on using Ghost since their default theme is beautiful, but it looks like none of my hosting options support it at the moment. Thanks to Jekyll and a base template called Poole, this doesn’t look too shabby either.

The name of this blog, A Maze of Maize*, was a phrase that just popped into my head the other day. I’ve always liked wordplay (not surprising if you know that I love reading Nabokov), especially the use of near-homophones. I remember one of my earlier screen handles being violent-violets; embarrassing, I know.

If you’ve somehow found your way here, do take a look around. I hope you enjoy your stay within the recesses of my mind.

*Disclaimer: I am aware that the cover photo does not actually depict maize, but I was quite tired of scrolling after spending five minutes on unsplash.com.