When you live out of one bag, you get clear about what is essential. Sure, there are dresses that you’d like to keep, your ass looks great in them, and sure there are books you wouldn’t mind carrying along with you, so that you can peruse for definitions, and yeah, there’s a lamp you like, that you sleep with every night, and have attached sentiment to.

But you soon realize how much of the world is buried in their belongings, and their longed for belonging. We want to fit somewhere, to be essential.

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