Everything Feels

Ever since I was a child, I’ve believed that everything has feelings—even non-living things. This belief has shaped the way I interact with the world in ways that might seem unusual to others. For example, I used to sleep with all of my stuffed animals, not just one or two. I didn’t want any of them to feel left out or hurt, and I couldn’t stand the thought of any of them sleeping alone.

Recently, we had to replace our fridge, and I felt a deep sense of guilt. Even though it was just a machine, I couldn’t help but feel like I was betraying it. I know what it’s like to be replaced, and it felt wrong to discard something that had been part of our home for so long. The fridge didn’t do anything to deserve being replaced, and I felt sorry for it.

This is something I’ve carried with me for as long as I can remember. Whenever I have to let go of or replace an object, I feel a sense of sadness—like I’m letting it down in some way. It’s not about the object’s usefulness; it’s about the connection I feel with it. For me, things don’t just serve a purpose—they have a presence.

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