It's a funny thing about being a "horder". I hold onto stuff FOREVER. I have clothes piled up in my hall now that I not only have never worn but probably never even considered wearing all the time I owned them. And I have closets and drawers and attics filled with crap. And I have volumes and volumes of my journals, horded since I was 8 years old. And I have emails clogging my in box that I won't get rid of and I have letters tucked into various corners of my house that I stumble across from time to time. And all of the poetry I wrote in school. I surround myself with all of these thoughts and memories and objects and when I look at them or read them or touch them or whatever, I get sucked back into that time and place and feeling again. It's a strange feeling -- being the memory keeper. It's not always a position that I relish. Because I have these memories, I remember the bad stuff along with the good. And sometimes, even remembering the GOOD stuff makes me feel bad because it's like... Well, that time was blown, wasn't it? And as much as having those things around me takes me to highs and lows and even mediums, I still won't get rid of it. I like riding those waves, it makes me feel human. Makes me feel both vulnerable and invincible at the same time. Which is weird.

But then again, so am I. ;-)

Ok. Enough online moping (yeah, okay -- I said that the last time, didn't I?) -- gonna go bag up all the discarded clothing and then I'm gonna go take a look at what the world has going on today.

kisses to my drifting readers -- keep the faith! I will be chipper again!

HP