storage

This morning I rooted through a small storage unit I have had for 2 years.
How odd, keeping old things. I consider that now.
Lots of things I forgot owning. Guess I learned to live without it.

I imagine a whole lot of what we have we can do without when the circumstances change. Circumstances ranging from small to catastrofic.

I left this city with an apartment full of furniture and possesions, and two years later I find getting rid of the remants as addicting as collecting them were. Maybe even more addicting.

All that stuff. Can't beleive why I ever thought keeping it was a good idea. Of course, when I packed it, I assumed I would be back in the city within a few months at most. Back to the normalcy that the few years here had become. Back to pissing away my money on crap because buying stuff meant I was alive, or something. Hard to say, really.
That was April 2003.

I plan on narrowing down that storage to about three boxes. Books mostly, the hard to find ones that I know I will read again. The books that have stayed with me through my life, the way things do sometimes.

I also discovered my library of Larry Norman cds. He is one of those people, like a good book, that just keeps resurfacing in my life.
The first time I saw and heard him was in a music video when I was about eleven. My mother knew who he was. To me, he was a lanky albino.
Then, when I was about seventeen I saw him in concert for the first of many times.
In the late nineties I was involved with a production company in Vancouver that brought Larry Norman in for a series of shows on the mainland. I got to spend two evenings drinking stale Dennys coffee and eating overpriced grease with this man.
And here I am again, having gone almost two years without even hearing a single song, exploring my dusty Larry Norman collection.
Some things just are meant to last forever, I guess. They are like institutions that are built right into the fabric of who we are.
I just wish their was more by my side. More living and breathing ones.

Traveling lends itself to losing touch with old friends, not hanging onto them.

Here I am at thirty, and I finally feel able to begin my life the way I always wanted it to be. Maybe not in a literal way, but in a way that I always just wanted peace.

During my scavaging, I also discovered two unmarked cdrs. When I arrived back to my 17th floor vantage point, I put them in the stereo and to my great shock they possesed the distinct whine and wail minstrel voice of Billy Corgan balladering songs I have never heard before!!! I have no idea what these songs are or where they came from!!!
I am pleased.

That's it for tonight. I am feeling sleepy prevade.