I threw a bunch of old photos out,
and it's really bothering me.
Not like, constantly, but...
I think about it every so often.

I'm astounded at how awful it feels.
I don't think there's anything else,
at least as much as I can remember,
that makes me feel this way.

I think it's because it's not... Hmm.
It's not just something bad that happened to me.
I think it feels so awful because,
it was just a hastily made decision on my part.

It'd be one thing if they got burned up in a house fire,
or even if they got ruined or lost in a big move.
I could tolerate that kind of loss, that kind of fate.
But the fact that it was me, that I intentionally
went and discarded them, especially after having
them for such a long time...

That's the part that really digs into my psyche.