why do we hold on to so much useless, old crap? fuck the memories. you can have everything
journals from 8th grade, high school letters, italy journal, 2 cell phones, 3 chargers, 5 yarmulkes, philosophy books, my mom’s decomposing hebrew dictionary (pages missing), pennies, 5 Egyptian pounds, broken cds: van halen, metallica (the black album) silverchair’s frogstomp, crappy flamenco music -bootlegged from spain – sketches of my gay roommate pascal birras from bologna, faded concert tickets from high school – i kept the good ones – a plp conference booklet, mardi gras beads -i’ve never been to new orleans – bank statements, around 7 dead pens, 1 broken sketching charcoal, an eraser, a half full deck of cards, 1 broken stapler, others.
and the treasure! an Apple remote that ctrls volume and itunes playlist, Edahn’s 24 hour fitness card – which would have been handy today – a card daphne rozenblatt made for me years back – in cursive script, with draping y’s ang g’s, making it completely illegible, or would take serious eye effort.
and seeing the bottom of my drawers. i’m so ready for this. it’s 104 degrees here.