Clutter Cr*p!

What's the point in saving it all?
All this junk?
"I might need it someday"
Yeah, but you might not.

I'm at home everyday. Every. Day.
Surrounded by baskets of this. Baskets of that.
Plastic boxes of more this. Bags of more that.
The stuff will stay there, until we sort again. And just move it, to another bag, box or basket.
The clutter is slowly getting to me.
Nothing has a home.
Or the things that do have a home, find themselves driven out by more crap taking over.
I feel a stress and weight on my shoulders. I know exactly what causes some of it.
The clutter.
Cluttering my space. Closing in on us.
Making a small space even smaller.

The loft is full of it. In an ideal world, all I want in the loft is a Christmas tree and Christmas decorations.
And suitcases, awaiting another family holiday.

Why do we keep it all?

Do I really need another bowl?
Another vase?
Another candle?
Another basket? To home more crap.
More clutter.

I have candles which I don't burn.
Why not?
Really...why not?
I seem to have an OCD type feeling when it comes to some of these candles. I just don't want to burn them. I don't want them to melt down.
Either burn them, or throw them away!

Unread books.
Books we have read. But won't read again.

I looked round today, and realised, that if anything happened to me, or us, this "stuff" would go.
To the charity shops, to the tip. Meaning nothing to anyone else.

I look at the photos.
On our walls.
On our window sills.
On my digital photo frame.
One day, these images won't mean anything to anyone.
Someone's not going to care.
We will be nobody's.

I look at the canvas I have of the boys on the wall. Charles is 2 years and one month. Harry is just 1 week.
Its so special to me. Really really special and everytime I look at it I can't believe these two beautiful boys are mine. Came from me.
Part of me and part of their daddy.
But when we're gone.
What happens to the canvas?
Will one of the boys want it?
Will he proudly place it on his wall?
Will they fight over it? Both wanting to keep this special memory.
This special object?

Where's the black bin bag?
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