Wrappings; the thin filmy plastics, the cardboard boxes, everything I pull away or rip apart before I can get what I really want. This matter doesn’t fit neatly into a classification, into an action. When I hold it in my hand I don’t know what to do with it. I have no immediate use for it, I don’t see where it can fit; I haven’t been given a reason to care for it. Also, this object has served its purpose, it’s lived its life, it’s done what it was intended to do, so now it belongs gone. It was intended to protect an object, to keep an object pure and fresh for my consumption. Damn! Is that the point of packaging!? Well that’s disgusting. If someone talked about a human that way I would kill them! So why are objects allowed to be talked about like that? An object is not a person, but they are made by human hands, thought up by human minds, they are an extension of humanity. Why do I owe them less? AND it’s the thought itself that’s so disgusting. Ownership. There is no such thing. There should be no such thing.