Judgement day

By 3sha
Call it spring cleaning if you must.

Tonight I cleaned out every drawer and storage box that had my name on it (...4 drawers, 5 storage boxes, 1 cabinet and 3 bookshelves).

I feel like I unearthed my past. Everything I had forgotten. Everything I wanted to forget. And everthing I shouldn't forget...namely, the year-old planners I had when I was on the verge of organizing my life.

Couldn't believe it when I read through all the letters, slumbooks (yes, I was also a highschool kid back then), old diaries, old notes, old sketches, old projects, old yearbooks...everything brought back old memories.

Photos reminiscent of ended relationships...some I was glad to have been saved from, and some I had hoped it to last. Letters that were never sent and letters that failed to keep its promise all piled up on my cleaning desk. As I sorted them out, only a few I tucked in my journal-the best ones-the hopeful ones...the others I left for the bin later.

I saw my old highschool slumbook, filled with farewells and good lucks from old friends. Friends who wrote down promises of "friends forever" that we both knew we could never keep. Names I couldn't match a face to and old telephone numbers, already obsolete, filled my address book.

Looking at my past all laid out in front of me I couldn't help but think "Are all these proof of my life's worth?" -- "Is this the same thing that happens when I die, my past flashes before me?" -- "I don't think the trash bin is large enough to hold all this!"

I get mixed feelings seeing my past, jumping from one emotion to another depending on the item. Hell, I can't even write on my blog with at least one straight thought. But I know one thing's for sure, memories attached to tangible things are much harder to forget.




 

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