My precious...

Those things that define rather than make you.
Those objects that people would look down upon as mere, valueless trinkets
Those items you'd break into a sweat if you realised you had lost them.
Those tokens sealed bonds of friendship, marked special events, celebrated happiness.
It would take hours to explain their history, their origin.
Most of the times you don't pay attention to them, yet you know they're here, close by.
They might be presents, or self-presents. They might have been picked up, somewhere.
Those things have no other known uses than to hang around your neck, ankle, wrist. Rest in your pocket.
Yet you couldn't part with them for the life of you.
They will, if they survive the passing of time and the general hustle-bustle of existence, follow you to the grave.

I thought I wasn't the collecting type. I was wrong. I was lying on the operating table for the pins in my hand to be removed, when one of the nurses noticed the hemp rope tied around my left ankle and said it had to be cut off, as hygiene requirements strictly stipulate. I had forgotten about it, completely, because that shapeless string has become part of me. I replied that if they so wanted, I would step down the table straightaway and leave. The nurse touched it, then asked where it came from. Necessary question. But there are two ways of answering it: geographically (it comes from such place), or analogically (I acquired this on such occasion). The first answer is generally followed by the second one, because we all want people to understand how dear it is to us, especially at the very minute when its existence is threatened. I didn't have the leisure to explain, so I just replied that it was a long, and beautiful, story. She smiled behind her mask and covered my feet with a blanket. My token of friendship was saved.

All for this, some will say. Anyway, it's a long, and beautiful, story.

That's how I came to realise that I was at least collecting something. You wouldn't call these remembrances. These souvenirs cover so many areas that they are difficult to classify: friendship or love, pain or wellbeing, happiness or sadness, melancholy, nostalgia for something or someone far away or long gone, good times, laugh-till-you-cry-and-your-abs-hurt times, chance meetings that happen to last a lifetime.

Here are two such trinkets. The first one I am "famous" for (self-present since the last hat died).

The second one comes from a farfaraway land, given to me by someone who's so special she doesn't even realise it.

(Good) thing is: I have others.