Out with the old

I painted faces on my fingernails last night and when I woke up there was an imprint of four faces on the side of my cheek. So, I guess you can say I didn't wake up lonely this morning in retrospect.

I threw all of my clothes on my bed and probably had a pile about six feet tall, no lie. It's about time that they finally meet the local goodwill bin. I never throw things away. Everything I have is a concrete representation of a specific memory. I look at my dad's dusty keyboard and remember standing in the office at my parents house in the suburbs and playing Greensleeves on repeat. I wore that shirt to grad bash. I bought those pants when I was shopping with Kory. Madison got me that jacket for Christmas two years ago.

It's like throwing away my past.

In the end, maybe it will make me feel new. Tossing out old memories to make new ones.