Material vs. memories

Well it’s been a week or two since I posted,, I’ve moved back home, left my job and organised and gone on my sisters hen weekend. My room is a mess and so is my head. It has finally hit me.

I am homeless and unemployed and about to start the biggest adventure of my life. And I do not feel prepared.

Over the past few days I’ve been thinking about what this blog is to me and some of the posts have just felt a bit, well, forced. I don’t feel I’ve found my voice yet and I have every intention of making this a blog of my journey not bullet pointed events on equipment and random thoughts.

So 3 weeks to go. How do I feel?

Overwhelmed by the magnitude of ‘holy crap I’m going travelling’, if I’m honest. I’m not feeling ungrateful for the opportunity, far from it, but wow there’s a lot to do.

Up until I moved home it kind of felt a bit of a pipe dream, something that wouldn’t actually happen but here I am, back at home knowing I haven’t got my own space to go back to for the first time in 2 years, surrounded by my junk. God damn it where does this all come from? Hemmed into a corner of my bed by fashion mistakes and over enthusiastic purchasing. These material items which I have used to define me up until now all mean nothing, I can’t take it all with me, I can’t even keep it all now.

Where does all my worthless but priceless junk go? Why can I not get rid of that ty collection I’ve been hoarding since my pre-teen years and does that Blue album still have a place in my musical collection? Just because all these things played such a huge part of your past, does the material evidence need to be evident in you present let alone the future?

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