It’s probably a holdover from my antecedent packrat existence that I am loathe to rid myself of this drawstring pouch. I have fantasized about what would work best inside it. Magic beans? Glitter? Smoke bombs? Marbles? Pieces of eight? Pieces of silver? Thirty pieces of silver? Blood diamonds? Blood spices? Mesopotamian artefacts? A crystal monkey skull? Trail mix? I would say the list goes on, but it doesn’t. That is the exhaustive list of items approved for conveyance in a drawstring pouch. Memorize it, because there will be a test.
You will notice the omission of on-ear headphones from this list. Such things are meant to be worn over your ears while your head bobs gently. Barring that, they should encircle your neck while you are wearing a hoodie and (probably) a fitted cap poised at a jaunty angle. One does not tote around headphones in a sack like an urchin who was just collecting seashells by the seashore. It’s not just superfluous, it’s (probably) rude.
And so I remain in possession of this unfilled pouch. I prefer to think of it as a metaphor more than anything else.