There is a sickness, kind of a defect in my genes, which I've inherited from my both parents. I'm attached to useless stuff for the sake of memories and sentimental meanings. I've ticket stabs, airplane boarding passes, ugly drawings done by various people, fancy gift boxes, my toys since early childhood, some school books and stationeries,
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I can relate. But I hang on to things with no real sentemental value. Like infront of me I have a hacky sack I got free from cereal maybe. Never used it. It's cluterring up my desk. But it'd just feel a waste if I threw it away.
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