moving is quite an interesting experience. it's been three years. before that, it was every couple of years or so; all i know is that i've moved over eight times in my life. what i've noticed is that there is always so much useless junk i don't throw out- some are literally just pure useless where i don't know why i've even kept them for so long, but some others are useless items that hold significant memories or items that were given by old friends, especially those who were close but don't talk with anymore.
there are clothes from missions trips, bridge tournament, retreats, etc; journals and notes and cards from different stages in life; birthday presents and presents in general; even stuff from hk like my expired ID and subway card. many of these things are useless but it's hard to throw them out. it feels as if they are the proof of your experiences. it feels as if you were to throw them out, your experiences were never existent or they were fake. when no one else was there to validate them for you, only these items can hold such meaning.
i'm looking forward to when i'm old to look back at the past of right now and smile,... hopefully.
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