I have been in this apartment over a year. Sixteen Months, give or take. And for all appearances, my life has moved on. Job is going very well. Daughter is growing up in to an amazing young woman. I found a place Uptown that feels like home. I'm hanging out with friends.
Life is good. Right?
Well...sure. Mostly. I mean a part of me is resisting. I have a 2 bedroom apartment. The second bedroom was originally the creative area (my desk and studio stuff was in there). I had a wild hare to move my treadmill and exercise bike in there and move the desk out to the other room. It all made sense in my head.
Only that room really isn't still unpacked. I mean now it's in that transition of one purposed room to another purposed room. So that doesn't quite count. But before that even, it wasn't unpacked. Not completely.
And I'm not sure what that's about. If it's even about anything. Am I waiting for something drastic to happen? Or am I anxious about settling in to this life. This 'new' Todd that's not so new anymore?
There's not really a good answer for that. There's still too much clutter here.
I took too much of the past with me when I left the old life behind. I see that now. I have a 3-Day weekend coming up. I haven't decided from where or even if I'm going to watch the fireworks yet. But beyond that, this weekend is going to be more purging. I have simple needs these days. I need my music (vinyl, etc) and means of creating music. I need my cameras. And I need my writing or means by which to write.
What I'm not sure I need anymore are the 1000+ lyrics/poems I wrote in the 90's. Looking through some of them, they were very therapeutic at the time, but they may need to just be burned at this point. Who knows?
I just know there's a lot of shit still in boxes that either needs to be unboxed and shown the light of day or tossed in to the dumpster.
Some days I want to chuck it all and just start again. Start simple. Stay simple. I look around and there's very little I want to leave as a legacy. My stories perhaps. Other than that, most of this is just stuff. And to be honest, with the exception of the vinyl, in 20 years, way better stuff is going to exist anyway and this stuff will be all antiquey. Musty with the odor of misspent nostalgia.
Now me, I happen to like nostalgia.
Hence an apartment full of too much shit.
See how we got back here? Yeah. Odd, I know.
I need to go do some more writing now.
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