Thursday, June 03, 2010
In my closet, I move aside the old backpack full of old journals, many of which are half- empty and see a box inside a box containing folders inside of folders holding papers that some might consider important. Underneath, another box is stacked full with old textbooks that I should have sold before I left and the curriculum was updated to demand a new version.
Under my bed I have piles of old drawings, the corpses of projects that might never be looked at again.
In my computer I have 1 folder with my name on it containing one folder saying pictures. I have not yet had the time to rebuild a massive network of website favorites or school documents. Those pieces have long since passed away. Perhaps they lie irretrievable in the corpse of my old laptop that sits ignored behind the cabinet doors of my bookshelf.
The bookshelf itself is largely empty as it was emptied out when I left to make room for whoever would be using this room while I was gone. A new bookshelf has been added proving that the room was used, but the large wooden box in the corner was unneeded. Now it is gradually finding a purpose as a place to hide ugly stuff. A place to hide the mess, but there is so much stuff that needs a home that the room still doesn’t look like it did when I arrived to freshly vacuumed carpet almost three weeks ago.
Sometimes it’s easier to just keep things in storage. I don’t want to dig through those old forgotten boxes because I don’t want to find something that I couldn’t possibly live without.