I've never held onto anything worth holding onto, except for this zippo in my pocket, and this habit I picked up from you. The actual worth of either is probably doubtful. But for me, a collector of significance, and for right now when they are significant, they are everything. Everyday I perform learned gestures from various people who has walked alongside me for a while. Some of these things I don't even remember the origins of; who did it, or when I started doing it too, to remember them. I'm a hoarder of physical memories I've forgotten.
There are things I won't forget, though. The taste of berocca whenever I'm sick, only ever ordering a green curry whenever I'm at a Thai restaurant, the bum wiggle I do whenever I hear Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds, every crack of a knuckle and the shape my hand forms that fits that bicep perfectly, and the way I scramble my eggs and the taste of that combined with a cigarette and coffee. All this and so much more - I can live a pretty full life based only on memories.
But that's not a life, is it? That's just reliving, reveling, revealing. Revealing an emptiness of the present.