Everything changes but me.

I’ve recently been arguing with a dear friend about my decision to promote the fact that I’ve been trying to minimise the outrageous amounts of pure trash I have accumulated. I’d like to make it clear to him (because I know he will read this) that it doesn’t change who I am, or any of the things we have done together, I’m still the same person, it’s just that I’m not quite as lost in the things I own. I haven’t got rid of anything important and I never would. It’s just all the surplus. You’d be amazed how much you can skim off the surface without really denting the amount of things on display still. If it wasn’t for the sacks and boxes still collected on my floor I wouldn’t know I had sorted anything out.

That’s it basically. I haven’t changed at all. I’m still the same awkward nervous person you met four years ago in a lift, it’s just that I’m trying a lot harder to mediate myself, trying to find the way I work best, what makes me tick and that can only be done by trial and error. I’m not saying I’m going to become some fully realised being of light, just that I would like to free myself a little so I can create and work better. You can call that pretentious if you want, or say I’m like all the other cunts but I’m the only one of that ilk who is also your friend.

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