So in the past several days I have thrown out bags upon bags of junk that have been festering in my parent's basement for three years. I suppose I will never recall what drove me to feel that it was necessary for me to save thirteen bottles of moisturizing cream all in varying scents and varying degrees of fullness. Or shape magazines from a time when Dawson's Creek was still the most happening show on the WB.
There is something very liberating about throwing out a phone charger from a phone I haven't seen since 2002. Or finally letting go of clothes that I haven't worn since university.
There is also something very permenent. When I packed up my Toronto apartment three years ago and stored everything in that corner of the basement it was with the assumption that I would return to reclaim my things in a year. But what is it that they say about the best laid plans....
And now all my valued possesions will be spending at least another year and a half in hidden from the light of day. But there is much less of it now.