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#1 of 20 Old 05-11-2006, 11:20 PM - Thread Starter
 
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This idea was submitted by Red...sounds interesting. Wanna give it a go?



Make believe you are a piece of luggage. Describe yourself. Are you a back pack or a suitcase, fancy or plain? What is hanging or stuck on you? What's IN you. Make sure each item describes somethign about who you are.

                                Whatever will be, already is...
 
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#2 of 20 Old 05-16-2006, 04:17 PM
 
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I found this exercise rather inspiring actually. This draft just poured out of me. What do readers think?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

No luggage compartments or conveyor belts for me. I fit snugly in the stowage compartment – the only essential equipment my traveling businessman needs. Aside from his laptop.

Three shirts, two ties, a pair of dress pants and assorted smalls stuffed in the gaps. Some gym clothes rolled in the bottom, address the intention but fail to follow through. Travel-sized toiletries. Economy-sized pharmaceuticals. A hotel sewing kit. Eezee shoe shine. A disposable razor. A pair of nail clippers with the file broken off post 9/11.

Otherwise anonymous, I've seen so many airports I now bear a special tag denoting privileges for my experience. It takes some of the sting out of being without home and family. So does the beer and the sleeping pill. But the best part is being able to just pick me up with one hand, swing the jacket over the other shoulder and walk directly out of here. No luggage compartments or conveyor belts for me.
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#3 of 20 Old 05-19-2006, 12:17 AM
 
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I'm well traveled, my stickers tell my story well. I've been all over the world. It's lonely being a silver suitcase in a world of black luggage. I've had 15 owners over the years. They all show me so much, but I long for a home and stability. I just want to be loved for awhile, not that they don't like me, oh, they do. They take care of me, but they are so young, they can't understand the suffering I've endured. I can no longer tell you where all I've been, but the stickers can tell you. I'm alone, so alone, I just want a home. I want to be used for family vacations with the kids, not living on the edge out of country. I want to know a family, I want to know life without partying. I want stability. Just once, stability.

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#4 of 20 Old 05-26-2006, 11:34 AM
 
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Oh, I feel so sad for your suitcase Treece!
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#5 of 20 Old 05-27-2006, 11:57 AM
 
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Thanks, marsupial*mama, I am having a bad time right now. I usually write when I am depressed. This fits the bill.

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#6 of 20 Old 05-27-2006, 11:58 AM
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I stand out in the crowd, with my orange and green animal clips attatched to all handles. They have actual human bitemarks in them, from the boy who loves nothing more than to climb inside me when I am taken out of the closet. The woman who usually packs me hates to throw things away, so now I have my clips along with my destination tags.

You can't tell how many places I have been. There are no stickers, no patches, no signs but wear and tear. One corner has started to fray, and my rollers are beginning to stick. But my memory is just a good as always, I remember Germany, Peru, Kuwaitt, Oman, the Netherlands, the Ozarks, Ireland and Great Britian. Now I am packed to go to America. I am so excited... Americans have the biggest closets! No more being piled under boxes and games. Breathing space. That is what I'll have now.

My large outside zippered compartment holds medical records and important documents. My small one contact lens solution and cases. My owner is constantly losing the cases so she brings extra. I know that in reality, the boy takes them off to play with.

Inside I am a pile of clothes. The cutest little tiny toddler socks, and great big huge manly man socks. Maternity shirts and pants. Hoodies and shorts. They always pack me with a variety, just in case. I have a book on baby sign language... I completely understand. The boy does a lot of pointing and tugging of hands, he needs a better way to communicate.

I also hold the black pearl necklace the "Grandpappy" gave his daughter from Spain. She thinks they are terribly ugly but takes them everywhere because they were from him. He is also a traveler, no dust on his suitcases. An altogether wonderful family for a suitcase to belong to. But I am getting old and a little tired. My blue is fading to gray in spots.

I have a whole book full of pictures. They are quite wonderful... but full mainly of the boy. I like the wedding pictures, such a simple, beautiful ceremony they had. The man and woman barefoot with their dog at their side in a wooden pavillion on the beach. The whole thing cost under a hundred bucks but you have never seen something so touching. There are pictures as well of the dog as a puppy, rescued from abuse with her poor tummy exploding with worms. Then pictures of her now, happy, healthy and as in love with the boy as the rest. The boy looks funny in pictures now, it is odd seeing him bald again now that his hair has grown in. And in every picture he smiles. He is such a happy boy.
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#7 of 20 Old 05-31-2006, 07:47 PM
 
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Violated and abandoned. My contents roughly rifled through without consideration for my sensibilities or the good service I have so far provided. No admiration for my quality leather, or my brand name design. Deft hands plucked me from my pocket in the crowd's bustle and swiftly on-passed me to a waiting second party. My owner obliviously walked on and away, pocket change jingling.

I still retain my dignity; the family photograph, the scribbled-on napkin, the receipt for that night's business dinner. I still protect the solitary key in my inner compartment, the one to his mistress's front door. I will never tell.

Denuded of cash and credit cards, I lie discarded in the trash. My identity still intact, I wait for someone to find me and return me to my keeper....
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#8 of 20 Old 06-04-2006, 12:24 PM
 
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Quote:
Originally Posted by BelovedK
This idea was submitted by Red...sounds interesting. Wanna give it a go?



Make believe you are a piece of luggage. Describe yourself. Are you a back pack or a suitcase, fancy or plain? What is hanging or stuck on you? What's IN you. Make sure each item describes somethign about who you are.
I am one of those great oversized dufflebags--soft and shapeless, dull in color and heavy with years of accumulation. I've served my owner well, but my fabric is not steel and could not stand up to the careless handling and chafing I've endured. After all these many years, I've begun to show the wear; my color is fading, my seams are weakening and now that my handle has broken, I've become a burden to carry. My owner doesn't know what else to do with me, so he continues to lug me after him, my bulk slung over his shoulder in a most uncomfortable fashion. Any day now I expect he'll wake up to realize I am easily replaced; there are many new and colorful, lightweight models out there waiting, ready and able to accomodate his every need.

LOL This was great! What a playful idea! I had a lot of fun with this.
This is my first day; I look forward to getting to know others on this site and doing more fun things together. ~Suede~
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#9 of 20 Old 06-14-2006, 02:32 PM
 
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Those in the know will recognize my designer fabric and colors at a glance. Of course, they will simultaneously pretend not to notice such details. That is the kind of privilege I represent. It would be uncouth to mention my brand name in the course of conversation. We are 'luggage' by any other name and purpose. But we denote a status well beyond that of ordinary luggage.

My lady owner has never used me. I'm just one piece that completes the set of more practical and versatile luggage pieces. It is now considered unfashionable to carry a separate vanity case - unless of course you are in the modeling or beauty industry. So I sit unused in the back of her spacious closet, waiting for a day when my lady owner might feel glamorous enough to pack her perfumes and pampers in my many elasticized pockets and loops.

I recall her initial ecstasy upon purchasing all of us. She ran her manicured fingers over my seams and smiled. She pealed the protective plastic from my mirror and checked her look. I thought she approved, but soon learned otherwise. The thrill of the acquisition passed quickly, as it always does, and I have sat here with a dozen other bags and cases ever since; unused and redundant; objects of our lady owner's materialism.
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#10 of 20 Old 06-18-2006, 11:17 PM
 
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how fun!

I enjoyed this. I found that I described much about myself and my feelings about my life right now!

I am a pale pink floral print canvas bag. I was bright and pretty at one time, but in my own way I am still sort of cute.
I long (at times) to be the sleek bright luggage. You know the type that makes everyone say “Whoa! Where did you find that beauty?”

However, sleek and stylish I am not. Exclamations over my stylish construction are never heard.
I was found at a thrift store. Clean, fresh smelling, slightly worn and faded but I have a pretty face. There was much exclaiming over me. I was said to be “perfect, just the right size, and so very affordable”.

My corners are frayed and some of my edges are dirty. I try to clean up at times, but some of these spots are too tired to sparkle.

I have a pink and green polk a dot scarf tied around my handle that I feel lends an air of elegance to me. (It’s also just right for hiding some of my worn spots.) My bright apple green luggage tag came from the sleek stylish catalog. A splurge to tie me altogether.

Although I am slightly worn and faded, and a bit lumpy from being over packed, I am still functional and helpful I must say. I like to think that I add a bit of color to a shabby world. I know I’m the favorite bag because I’m the one that’s always grabbed for trips.

You ask what is inside me? I hope you’re not in a hurry!
I have

6 outfits,
5 alternate outfits,
22 shoes (one pair for each outfit),
hair stuff,
plastic bags for dirty things or wet cloths,
several extra books and magazines,
gifts for when I arrive,
toiletries,
vitamins,
My neck pillow,
jacket,
socks,
craft supplies,
tourist brochures,
a framed photo,
alarm clock,
notebooks,
pens, ‘
Miscellany galore.

Each item inside is precisely rolled & folded with all the air smooshed out.
I hold my breath positive that should I allow myself that luxury my world is going to explode!
I hope we get there soon!
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#11 of 20 Old 06-23-2006, 02:46 PM
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I have been WAITING to do this. I wanted to do it WITH people not just my own. Thanks, BelovedK!


ME


Big, soft-sided, overstuffed to the point of zipper-popping, bag. Scuffed, from years of heavy use, even with a few small tears, but still sturdy and tough, yet a soft glow of polish and hand-rubbing show through. There are pockets everywhere for organizing, but they all hold whatever landed in them first.


Stickers cover the outside, stuck so that they half-cover other labels, all at odd angles. "Mother" "Sister" "Daughter" "wife" "ex-wife" Farmer, gardener, fool, witch, hat-maker, teriyaki sauce cooker, truck driver, veteran, all the things I am or have been, yet nothing that says anything about the ME that lives inside.


It's hard to slide the zipper. It sticks, has to be run back and forth numerous times before the bag springs open. Stuff spills out onto the bed. Long, flowing, feminine caftans mix with jeans, t-shirts and jammie pants. Nothing is new, all show wear and tear. Work gloves to protect my hands from the hard parts of the day lay unused.

Sexy underwear, bikini-type, fall in a silky pile. Pawing through you come to one bra. Just one, rarely bothered with.


Books line the bottom of the bag. Books on child rearing and cookbooks, homesteading and fantasy novels, romances, literary fiction, books on writing, on fish farming, on travel, a small library of diverse reading material.

Between the layer of books and the layer of clothing are notebooks. The cheap, 3 for $1.00 (ok, I got them on sale for 10 for $1.00 ), wide-ruled notbooks. And pens! Dozens of fancy, weighted pens, thick, easy to hold pens, a few cheap Bics, fine line and not-so-fine, permaent markers, a bunch of sharp pencils. A laptop sits nestled in there, it's memory full of novels in the works, recipes yet to be tried, rare moments to be remembered.

When you open the pockets you find simple items: a camera, homemade soap, homemade lotions and hand creams to smooth away my rough edges.

Jewelry, UGLY jewelry. Beads painted in neon colors by a child and strung on a bit of string, a black mussel shell on another length of cord, a bit of clay with a design pressed into it. A few pair of store bought earrings, but nothing worth more than a few dollars.


There's a few scents in there. Lemon and lavender, sage and comfrey, white vinegar, baking soda.

There's a pair of sandals, flats, and a pair of sturdy shoes. No pumps or high heels. A hairbrush, but no gels or sprays.

Tucked into the last pocket is a photo album. Between it's pages you see the people who have colored my life, old and young, long-dead or new to this world. Despised or adored.

Quick! Zip it back up! C'mon, cram it all in! I'm in a hurry! I'm in a ruch. Time is wasting and I've so much to do, so far to go.






First I wrote mine, so as not to be influenced by everyone else's. I'm going back to read now!
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#12 of 20 Old 06-23-2006, 03:45 PM - Thread Starter
 
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Red, I feel like I know you better now

                                Whatever will be, already is...
 
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#13 of 20 Old 06-23-2006, 04:46 PM
 
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I didn't realise that *I* was supposed to be the luggage! I wrote it more as a piece of luggage with a story. Oops! I suppose, in a way, they do all describe something about me.

Trying to think exactly what kind of luggage I would be.... !
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#14 of 20 Old 06-23-2006, 04:57 PM - Thread Starter
 
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Quote:
Originally Posted by marsupial*mama
I suppose, in a way, they do all describe something about me.
!

It just sorta works out that way doesn't it?

                                Whatever will be, already is...
 
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#15 of 20 Old 06-23-2006, 08:51 PM
 
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I am a simple backpack, black with a subtle fiery red trim to it to add just a splash of color. I used to believe it would make people notice me, that tiny bit of bold red but I learned that it takes alot of color to be seen in this world. Bags that are humble get tossed around but not marveled at. I am worn alot now, a little frayed at the edges from being tossed down onto the ground with casualness, my zipper pops open when it shouldn't after years of having more than I can fit crammed into me. I am still cute though, smallish and sort of feminine, my holes covered up with iron on patches of flowers, peace signs, hearts. I am covered in love and that helps to outshine the weariness of being me, of lugging around othesr things all of the time.
Jiggle the zipper a bit to open me and I will show you what I carry inside.
It would be hard to find ME in here, amongst all this so called junk. The legos and crumpled notebook paper, the empty sippy cup, three bills, the letter from an old friend, the extra shirt, the book on Homeopathy, the worry stone with a well worn center to it, one lone baby sock, an organic cracker and three crayons. My owner is a mother, just as worn out and frazzeld as I am at times.( having to carry so much stuff in me....) But she is happy too. Which I cannot see the sense behind but then who am I? A simple, subtle backpack taht has stood the test of time, a liitle frayed at the edges, a littel dulled out, but still here doing my job and doing it well. Perhaps I do not catch others eye with a designer label or bright bold flashy colors, but I am content here to please my owner, to help her carry this so called junk through life. I have a purpose and I fulfill it. That is enough for me.
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#16 of 20 Old 06-24-2006, 10:20 AM
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Hey, this was fun! I enjoyed reading everyones's bit, whether they did it as if they were the luggage, or just as a story about a piece of luggage.

BelovedK, I actually OWN most of that stuff.....well, my undies have seen better days, but i used to have lots of sexy ones. I don't own a caftan, but I was going for comfort and femininity. :

And I don't own a laptop, but I want/need one and I could hardly say I packed my puter!

Other than that, it seems what I really own says who I really am.: So much for fantasy!


And I'm waiting to read Beloved's!!!
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#17 of 20 Old 06-25-2006, 11:36 PM - Thread Starter
 
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OK, here goes....

I am made of black leather, soft and worn, supple enough to invite touch. There is a Hello Kitty image on the side of my body, patches of our favorite bands stitched securely on the outside. Though I am strong, I'm also riddled with holes.

Inside of me , tucked between the books, is a cell phone. It never rings, but is nice to have. It helps my owner feel secure. There are tissues, both for runny noses as well as tears, wedged among the bank receipts...My owner likes to ignore the little scraps of paper, the smaller details in order to stuff me so full that I put an indentation in her shoulder. I feel bad, but it is all her fault...She insisted on packing the hoodie (so she doesn't get cold in the a/c) There are so many books inside of me that i feel like a library, she also has a few notebooks, a pen and a schedule book. The appointment log is so full that I often wonder how she will find the time to read her books or write in the notebook.

When I am emptied out, I feel so relieved. I like the warmth of being carried around though, full of the pieces of her life. I'm thinking I will just accept this jumbled existance, knowing that without chaos, there would be no order.





(a very quick assesment of this moment)----> more to follow

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#18 of 20 Old 06-26-2006, 07:48 PM
 
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This was tossed off just now. Fun! (oops. just realized I didn't make myself a suitcase )
comments welcome


you wouldn't notice me at first. I'm plain, sorta tan, sorta pale, soft and smooth with long thin straps that are most at ease when they cradle the body that carries it; considers me indispensible and not to be left behind.

my middle bulges a bit with the weight of too many lists, crumpled and worn, its items mostly unattented to. And a jangly change purse; brightly colored and crazed. Crammed to the gills with receipts and expired library cards and coffee coupons and dimes; never a quarter in there for the meters in town.

and tucked away in the zipper is the most fantastic lipstick. A shade you can't get anymore. Creamy, long-lasting and just the ticket to turn a plain-jane tote-bag of a thing into the prettiest girl in the room.
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#19 of 20 Old 06-27-2006, 05:53 PM
 
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I came from the flea market. My owner found me, dusty green and patched up, lying in a crumpled heap under a table. She picked me up, gave me a shake and watched as the dust mites that had so long called my canvas home, took flight in the early morning sunlight. My shoulder strap lightly tapped her leg. I am old and worn, but I look strong. I look like I've been though hell and back, but that I could do it again if my services were required. I was a steal at two dollars.

I sat in the dark closet for ages. New dust mites found me and settled in. Every time she opened the door I ached to be put to use; to have a purpose. Sitting alone in the dark was just as humiliating as sitting crumpled under a table, perhaps worse. At least under the table there was the hope of more to come. Here there was nothing but my empty insides and broken memories. My dreams have become as faded and torn as my canvas.

One day she opened the closet, shoved me to the back of the shelf and gingerly placed a new leather case in my place. Its smell was of earth and wind. Her initials were engraved on a silver tag attached to a zipper. I realized then that I’d never have another adventure. There comes a time when scars and chutzpah have outlived their usefulness; when old must make way for the new. I scooted back a little more, ashamed to be touched by this new leather accessory, and it occurred to me that a back-story is meaningless if there is never hope of adding to it.

addicted, homeschooling, freelancing mama to DS 8. Pet mama to Harvey the Wonder Mutt :, Pnut: and Autumn : Oh, yeah, and
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#20 of 20 Old 06-28-2006, 04:36 AM
 
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Black. Non-descript. A sensible piece that anyone would have. A logical piece that you wouldn't necessarily take a second glance at. A combination lock keeps the luggage closed.

In the outside pocket are a pda, a calculator, a flat razor thin computer and cellphone. Logical, technical.

Inside... a framed piece of art with an inspirational quote beneath it. Several books, drawing pencils, drawing tablet, and a notepad and ink pen to write on. Picture of children are enclosed in a cardboard envelope to keep them protected. Everything inside evoked an emotional response.

The suitcase often wondered how such paradoxical items could fit together into one bag.
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