*Larita Kutsarita - n. see THE AUTHOR
*Spoonfuls - n. articles/dispatches/scribbles by Larita Kutsarita
(Background photo by Aiess Alonso)

Monday, September 29, 2008

Introducing..."The Do-It-Yourself Blast from the Past!"

Clutter. I was running through my stuff the other day when I suddenly realized that a massive portion of it was clutter. There are heaps of empty PET (that’s Polyethylene terephthalate for you…wapak!) bottles which are a constant semestral requirement in every dorm, course, project, and org imaginable. On the floor are drained coffee jars (I avoid the three-in-one stuff if I can help it) while tacked on my corkboard are spent concert tickets, DUP tickets, Icebag tickets, UAAP tickets, meal tickets, bus tickets, and all kinds of tickets you can possibly think of. There are countless inkless pens (including the blasted pink one) as well as leaves and leaves of thank-you, could-you-do-me-a-favor, sorry-forgive-me, happy-birthday, happy-valentine’s, and what-have-you notes pinned all over the place, and oodles of souvenirs and tokens and gifts that are best kept in cupboards or boxes—and not on college dorm tables, which have already been invaded by such sentimental whatnot, that I have surrendered and retired to studying on my bed instead, a practice that has not really done me any good except much-needed and yet VERY unnecessary sleep. There are also several aluminum pull-tabs robbed off beverage cans waiting to be utilized for a probably better purpose. Oh, and I seem to be developing a blossoming affair with candles, too—scented or scentless, used or unused—all from numerous types of ceremonies both weird and normal. And I’ve found expended lipsticks and expired products, too, stuff that I don’t really use anymore but still own up some space for reasons I myself cannot pinpoint exactly. Baubles and beads and buttons from broken necklaces and all that jazz remind me of Lola Lising (Mama’s mom) who also has her own little nook of vintage dandies she uses for sewing. I’m tellin’ yah, my corner in the room is not far from Professor Trelawney’s office—no, Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium. I even have a hard time throwing empty “hygienic containers” to the bin—you know, stuff like used-up isopropyl alcohol, facial cleansers, baby powder, and the whole caboodle. Oh, and don’t get me started on scent bottles—may they be of cologne or oil-based perfume—I am just mad about keeping ‘em in my closet…and I just love sniffing it all in whenever I do open the cabinet door. I seem to be obsessed with collecting virtually everything…and this is one fact about myself that I have just most recently discovered. O.o


I did a bit of research on this mind-boggling habit and found out that extreme cases may lead to obsessive-compulsive disorder, and that the worst-case scenario is never being able to open the door of one’s house because a wave of stuff could actually drown you to death. O.o No s**t. Well, the world is indeed a crazy place—a colossal mental institution if you may—and we all have our psychotic tendencies. I wouldn’t go about interpreting that I’m way too stuck in the past just because I like—LOVE—keeping stuff away from the bin. No way. I mean, I’ve always believed that “moving on” (in its most common Filipino romantic context and beyond) is a great skill of mine. They say it’s my curse, I say it’s my gift: I know when to turn and never look back—well, until it’s already "safe" to look back. ^^


I guess that’s why I like keeping clutter. It’s the only way I can move forward without the encumbering guilt trip. It does help, you know. Reminiscing the past isn’t as hard as tracing one’s roots, one painful person after another, if y’know what I mean. I just browse through my receipts and I immediately know what exactly happened on this particular day, at this particular time, in this particular place—why it happened, how I felt, how they must have felt, how much it had cost me (this is probably the most painful part), whether it’d be good if it happened again, or if it just stayed a distant memory on a white piece of thermal paper. Clutter is an instant time machine. Those people who keep immaculate rooms, not a speck of the past in sight, could be the bad guys, y’know. Moving on is not a skill for them, but a life. They go leave their homes and live in blank spaces, careful enough to not unpack their things yet--just in case they've to move again to some other place anytime of the week--careful enough to not get too attached to anyone. When they receive presents, they throw the wrappers, the cards, and if the gift’s not good enough—“Gosh, can’t they see I already have glassware?!”—they recycle and hand it to somebody else who just might keep the stuff, no matter how “useless.” Like moi, for instance. ^^


Well, unless I already start keeping actual skeletons in my closet and not scent bottles, then I’m quite happy with my clutter for now, thank you.

3 comments:

iamvirna said...

Hahaha. I'm such a clutter queen! Yung room ko? Mukhang bodega, but after reading this post, I definitely felt beter na makalat ko.

iamvirna said...

Ang engot ko, napindot ko yung enter. Haha. Sorry.. Ayan, may URL nako. :P

warped4lyf said...

interesting comment on the above post

http://lorgenshadoufang.blogspot.com/2009/04/heart-of-old-and-new.html