I'm picking up everything on the floor and dividing it up into piles.
Things to throw away.
Things to recycle.
Things that don't belong to me.
Things to preserve.
Things to hang up on my wall.
Things to reconsider how much I want them.
Things to stare at.
Things....
Things I don't want anymore.
Things that pain me to get rid of but I have to.
And I look at all the dust piling up around my room and I wonder how long it's been since I did something like this.
And yet... I still have to much work to do.
When coming home from another country, you forget that your room back at home is still the same mess it was when you left. And now you have to clean it up.
