New digs are probably driving a lot of much of my increased focus on letting go. I look at what needs to be put away: so much repurchase duplication for the storing of earlier instantiations hiding them to the point of imagining we never had them. And now we have two. Three. It feels a waste to keep them all. But then the "you never know" factor buries its fangs, complete with not being able to forget how the design of obsolescence as matured.
Also, how many f****** coffee cups do two people need?
Also, why are people still buying me "meaningful" tee shirts knowing I'll never wear them for being "meaningful"? I've a tee shirt with the logo of a long ago defunct terrestrial FM radio station from the town I grew up it back in the... well, the day... :-) ... and how could I possibly soil that? And no one in my current environs - several *lives* removed from "back then" - could appreciate said "meaning" anyway, thus a second strike against wearing it.
And, <deity>, how silly I feel even admitting wasting time/emotion agonizing over such!
Must. Let. Go.
I dread moving. I can't imagine having to shoulder my shell of belongings and haul it to a new place just to make that crowded too. Would you recover quickly if there were a house fire? I know I probably would.
Bartender, do you do drinks with fire?
Howdy!
~bartender? coffee, please. And maybe a couple cinnamon rolls, or something such. Thanks.
After 20 years and 123000 km I let go of my motorcycle. And all the accessories, too. The time to ride the "Highway to Shell" :) has ended for me. A youngster is riding the thing now. Much better than collecting dust in the garage. Farewell!
~bartender? Maybe a Corryvreckan with water at the side?