I need to learn to live with less.
I look around me and I see things.
Things that I don’t particularly need, but I have and want.
And I’m convinced that I do need all this.
I am convinced that I need to buy all the books that I want to read later.
I am convinced that I need to have a library of books.
For what purpose?
Maybe I will want to re-read the books again.
I don’t want to borrow it from the library because I want to have all the time in the world to read these books.
I want people to see that I read books, that I like literacy.
I need to prove to myself that these are the books I have read.
I want to remember the books that I have read.
I want to see the books that I have read.
I am convinced that this is necessary, but is it really?
I am convinced that I need more clothes.
I need to wear something new every. single. day. of my life.
I am convinced that I need to have every single style of clothing for every occasion, and heaven forbid that I wear the same outfit to a different event.
I am convinced that I need multiples of clothing in different colours if I really like the fit and style.
I am convinced that I need all the clothes I have and more.
Some of these clothes I don’t even wear.
They stay pushed back in my drawer or boxes, or hung in my closet for that one day that I might want to wear it.
But heaven forbid that I get rid of it, because if I do, I need to replace it with something new.
An exchange, not decluttering.
I am convinced that I need every make up palate and face product.
I need more.
I need every shade, every brush, every colour.
I am convinced that I need new things.
A new phone.
A new laptop.
A new bed.
A new desk.
A new organizer.
A new drawer.
I need new things to start a new.
Truth is I am desperate for change.
I am convinced that I need new things to change, to declutter.
I am convinced that old is bad and new is good.
I am convinced that new things will change my life.
Who have I become? I don’t even know myself anymore.
I have no roots.
I have no connection.
Just the desire to change.
Desire to change because I don’t feel like I belong.
I don’t fit it, and so things need to change.
I keep changing and longing for new things hoping for something to stick.
Hoping, that something will make me feel at home.
but how am I to feel t home with myself when I don’t even know myself, when I don’t even know what is going to help me feel at home.
I just feel empty and I need to run.
I need to get somewhere, away from here.
I want to know who I am, but I don’t know where to start.
I’m trying, but materialistic is not the way to go.
I’m just feeding into what society and capitalism wants.
I have all these things surrounding me, but I’m naked.