like a decapitated chicken.

moving sucks, especially when you have to sort through years upon years of useless crap that isn't yours and have a pile of trash as tall as you are outside your new place before you can even begin to think about moving your things in. insignificant things hold so much meaning to me sometimes that it's very difficult for me to sort through a box of garbage and knick knacks and decide what has actual worth, especially when i hardly know the person who this garbage is attached to.

that's what you get for being a lazy slob and leaving the dirty work to other people though: all your old things and the memories attached to them are sloppily thrown in a pile of the basement of the dilapadated house you still own, to gather mildew and mold.

i swear the value of that apartment has gone up atleast 20% just from all the scrubbing and trash removal that's been done. jesus.

i leave for the wide open road in 2 days though, and thankfully the new house is almost clean enough to live in. so i don't have that to stress about the whole time i'm traveling.

burning man here i come.

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