Slowly it goes, and no sooner than I clear a path through the living room than I return to the locker and refill it. I reached the back today - some interesting finds, creepy dolls, jewelry for the daughter, watches, Thai Amulets, Cameras, and more, more, more. It's all gotta go. I want to be free.
I watch, every day through the beltline, the procession of homelessness, vagrants, junkies, the mentally ill, every one with a shopping cart filled to the brim with rubbish. Trash. They push and drag it throughout the city for the whole of their remaining lives, they can't let go of this, the poverty of material things, they're tied to it, bound by it, just as everyone else, only nobody else is migrating across town, living in the street, but they're all just as damned.
I'm letting go of it all, soon enough...