about not owning junk ; most of my stuff necessary to my existence – clothes, computers, books, CDs, DVDs and that’s about it.
But still I’m aware that if you’re not careful you won’t own your possessions – they will own you.
I want empty closets. I want bare rooms. I no longer want to see unused Christmas and Birthday gifts piled in a corner. I want to ditch the furniture and once again sit cross legged on the floor, my back resting against a pillow on the wall. I want to dump the bed and re-experience the simple pleasure of sleeping on a futon.
I want to live my life with the bare essentials, not owning things for the hollow triumph of possession but because the property I do find necessary to own serves me.
I’m almost there but this requires constant vigilance.
Clutter has a way of creeping into our lives, slowly, quietly, insidiously, piling upon itself day by day and building up until we’ve got tottering mountains of crap in our homes.
Fuck consumption. I’ve had enough.
