If one man’s trash is another man’s treasure, then how many of my treasures are another man’s trash? What’s neat to consider is the fallacy of value, an ascribed importance to material goods — and on what grounds, now, do you stand on based on what you once certainly understood? Do you appreciate all the things you own, or only those which have appreciated? Maybe there’re some things you’ve outgrown — somehow so much stuff assimilated… into horded piles of purchases consuming the consumer’s space, where they now wish a place for everything, and for everything: a place.
Because getting rid of stuff feels like such an utter waste.
It’s such a guilty trip — throwing the junk in a communal pile; however, everything is trash given a little while.
留言