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This -- ownership, the connection between possessions and identity, or ownership and personhood -- is a subject that I think about quite a lot, but haven't ever really been able to say much about, or even reach personal conclusions about.

There was a time that everything I

owned fit in a cigar box, and a

Maybe I am what I possess, and I have trouble keeping track of what I am when I possess too much.

On the other hand, without

possessing anything...I left no

Why are we what we possess? Why does so much of me live in what I own? Why is it so important to me to know what belongs to me if my needs are taken care of anyway?

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