I am packing for Dubai. And I stopped.
Had to take a break. I was becoming slow and inefficient. And a strong tendency of not throwing things away is emerging.
Now my room is a mess of boxes with clothes and items. Clothes I have already worn and items I have already used.
My room it’s full of versions of me I have already been.
Do I really need all this stuff?
Every time I enter a new apartment I feel a liberating sense of emptiness. And novelty. As if somebody is giving me a blank sheet of paper, to draw it all over again.
Are we scared of losing parts of us we would not really miss?