On Moving

Things. Stuff. Knick-Knacks. Possessions. etc. etc. 

It's a Love Hate relationship. 

I enjoy the process of sorting, throwing away, donating, cherishing certain belongings....

but lordy lord, every time I have to pay big bucks to have my 

'crap' thrown into a storage room, I can't help but think

"what for"

Obviously there are a few things that I will keep till the end, such as 

old family photos.

But that's pretty much it. 

Everything else - including all the worn, pearled, stained, dated clothes, which financially I'm forced to wear, I want gone too. 

Mind you, I really shouldn't complain. 

I can pack everything I own into my mazda protege.  

(minus my semi-recent purchase of a Bed+Frame) 

Regardless, there's a desire, an urge to purge it all.

Then of course, a moment later the tides turn, 

and I dream about decorating my home with things I love. 

As I sit here on the floor of my near empty home; 

I can't help but think

"oh lu, how many times have you been here!?" 

No matter how many times I've 'been here' 

Each time is never quite the same, 

Nor I.