Ahh... The Joys of Moving
I used to love moving. The whole idea thrilled me, and I would start packing months in advance. The physical exertion and mysterious bruises that always occur never seemed to bother me...
Until I started moving for the 4th time in the last 5 months. I hate boxes. Fuck thinking outside the box - just blow the fucker to smitherines :) The funny thing is I just unpacked a box I packed before I moved to Portland... I guess when you are in transit so much your shit just becomes less needed for daily life. And that brings me to my next question:
What good does all this stuff do me? I seriously own so much shit for being as young as I am, and I'm about to throw it all out and join an Ashram if I have to pack, move and unpack (all by myself) one more time. Do these things make me happy? Fuck no. Honestly, the only thing that's made me truly happy is living my life for myself and getting out of a fucked up situation.
But now I must get back to the brown blobs that seem to rule my life :)
Until I started moving for the 4th time in the last 5 months. I hate boxes. Fuck thinking outside the box - just blow the fucker to smitherines :) The funny thing is I just unpacked a box I packed before I moved to Portland... I guess when you are in transit so much your shit just becomes less needed for daily life. And that brings me to my next question:
What good does all this stuff do me? I seriously own so much shit for being as young as I am, and I'm about to throw it all out and join an Ashram if I have to pack, move and unpack (all by myself) one more time. Do these things make me happy? Fuck no. Honestly, the only thing that's made me truly happy is living my life for myself and getting out of a fucked up situation.
But now I must get back to the brown blobs that seem to rule my life :)