Inktober 2024 - 1 - Backpack

Toothbrush? Check. Toothpaste? Check. Soap? Check. Matches? Check. Swiss Army knife? Also check. At least two changes of clothes, several pairs of underwear, a blanket, a towel, deodorant… Hard to believe your whole life can fit inside a single backpack, as ready to burst as it may be. When I moved out of my parents' house, I had already felt like I was not taking much with me. And back then, I had furniture, books, pictures, teddy bears, trinkets, memorabilia… No more of that. This time, I have to travel light.

No keys, no badges, no identification, no credit cards. I'm taking a little cash, just in case, though I doubt I'll need it. No connected electronics either, or they could be tracked. I have already backed up everything important on an external hard drive, safely tucked in a special pocket close to my lower back. I don't know when I'll be able to access it again, but there is already so much I'm leaving behind, I couldn't bear to also lose the stuff that does not weigh anything. Nothing but the time and effort put into it, at least.

I guess material things are not all I take with me. I do have my education, all the languages I've learned, all the skills I have acquired over the years. I have my memories, my past, everything I have been through from birth up to now, both good and bad. I have never liked it when people say someone has baggage. As if that can be helped in any way. Even amnesiacs have muscle memory. Our experiences shape us, make us into who we are; without them, we would be a completely different person.

Do we have siblings or are we an only child? Were we abused, molested, bullied, attacked at one point in our life? Have we ever been in a serious accident, been gravely hurt? Have we visited many distinct places, seen a lot of different faces? Have we ever been in love, or ever had our heart broken? Have we ever been betrayed? Have we lost people we cared about? All of those things and more are what led us to be who we are. Funny how we always seem to remember the bad more vividly than the good, though.

But I am making the conscious decision not to let anything drag me down. I cannot forget, nor do I want to. I take it all with me, not as some heavy suitcase I cannot even lift up and have to drag behind me like dead weight, but like a backpack; something practical, only packed with the essentials, with everything at hand and ready to use.

With one last tug at the straps on my shoulders, adjusting them for what I hope is minimum discomfort for the journey ahead, if not maximum comfort, I take one last look at what used to be my home, before leaving it behind for what might very well be forever. I am no longer welcome here, so I will go somewhere I am.