i dread cleaning up our house. it’s happened over and over again ever since i relocated on a more permanent basis- because mommy needs my extra manpower to carry it out. but it’s such a depressing business. i feel so guilty about the utter waste of everything- of books, furniture, toys, cds… inevitably in the mix you spot impulse buys, purchases you barely used, over-priced things you invested wrongly in. what a horrid, horrid waste. everything gets turned out, and it benefits no one, all these resources and labour and money and for what? it’s a wasteful, wasteful thing. how can humans accrue so much in a single lifespan?

and at the same time, i’m reminded that one day i’ll be doing this on my own, when my family is gone- and the horror intensifies. how can you eradicate a whole life embodied in possessions? what will you do with everything; how can you clear a house of everything? it terrifies me.

days like these i feel particularly misanthropic- humans are awful, wasteful pests that just flagrantly waste the earth’s resources and our lives are wretched and meaningless, and so is everything we own. burn it, just burn it all.

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