Stuff

Not sure what to do about it, maybe none of us are. We collect it and sometimes pile it. I still have a moving box of stuff in my bedroom, haven't touched it in years, it's all junk, can't even really resell it, should just donate it or pitch it but it's heavy.

Stuff. So much of it, yet sit Sunday night idly wondering what to do, nothing seems entertaining at all. Spent so much money on the stuff, the usual short-lived dopamine rushes of feeling the accumulation, or the arrival of the brown box.

Stuff. I've read a lot of books, watched a lot of movies, played a lot of games. But if I am not going to go back to some, why not sell? It's work though. Have to take the pictures, make the online listing, catalogue and price it all. Rather spend weekends being lazy, which I do on weekdays too, so what's the point, really? More money, I guess. More money I could use to buy more stuff.

So many choices yet nothing sounds fun, maybe that's what it's like when we stare at the fridge and there's too much food but nothing sounds good, analysis paralysis, we all struggle when we have more than a few choices, and I do, although I certainly don't deserve it, this stuff.

Crawl into bed instead. No stuff there. Just a warm blanket.