No taste for either, though I respect the necessity of atoms (for now).
I've been tearing through my closets, the dusty strata of my past here. I haven't moved in nine years, and at the time I moved in here I was living out of a couple of suitcases. I've accumulated so much matter, so many objects. Fucking atoms.
And some of them, many of them have value. Lots are crap, don't get me wrong, and I've gotten much more ruthless in defining "crap". But there were papers and pictures and leftover relics. The aftermath of me and mine, things I hadn't thought of in a long time.
Burn it all.
1 comment:
Please don't send the snarkitect books to the burn pile dear friend. I'd love to glean from their pages (and your unwritten ones) again upon my return. I wish you all the best at your new place, and hope to see it when I'm not in the land of moose.
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