i'm finding it quite difficult to throw anything away. everything from old pictures i drew in grade school to attachments to societal norms and my place as an unemployed, sub-par student living in the same town that i have been for 20 years.

i'm trying to distance myself from the concept that the things i own and the things i do define me as a person. but it's extremely difficult to throw away all the shirts i've owned for years as well as the delusions that i've generated for myself for comfort simply on the basis that i want to begin life anew on the other side of the country.

even when writing something, i am weary to revise anything as it might obscure the point i was trying to make.

maybe i don't have to get rid of anything to be happy. but then what am i giving up? is it fear of losing one's identity that causes us to latch onto the status quo, no matter how uncomfortable it is?