The process of shifting homes is a funny one. It makes you happy for new beginnings and sad for whatever you are leaving behind. As i pack the precious past four years into cardboard cartons i try to bring some sense of order into my life which at this moment is all tied up in knots. It's past 1 am and i am stuffing memories big and small, rusted and shiny, faded and flawed all into boxes, couldn't i just pack my heart up in one and send it far away so i never have to deal with it anymore?
When i see the quantity of books, cds, clothes, shoes, utensils i have i wonder how many people live within me to have purchased and lived with all this stuff. I have a tendency to throw away nothing. From old ticket stubs to unwearable shoes, unopened wedding gifts to clothes gone out of fashion... why couldn't i throw them away? what's this unhealthy attachment all about? And here's another question gone unanswered.
What do you do to keep being needed? Do you hold on do you let go? What do you use, to make those walls, so no one can touch you? Anymore?
And when that last box is loaded... how empty or how full will life be?
When i see the quantity of books, cds, clothes, shoes, utensils i have i wonder how many people live within me to have purchased and lived with all this stuff. I have a tendency to throw away nothing. From old ticket stubs to unwearable shoes, unopened wedding gifts to clothes gone out of fashion... why couldn't i throw them away? what's this unhealthy attachment all about? And here's another question gone unanswered.
What do you do to keep being needed? Do you hold on do you let go? What do you use, to make those walls, so no one can touch you? Anymore?
And when that last box is loaded... how empty or how full will life be?
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