cleaning…

we are all going to die, right?
the thing is how and when, some even worry about where; but that is beside my point.

as I clean up my room once again, I realized that a bit of us dies in some way when we have to dump to the trash some items that long ago we hold dear. for example the movie ticket from your first date, or the love letter your partner from high-school gave you when you celebrate the first month of that relationship and never fails to find an old picture of your family.

always comes the time when we have no choice but get rid of these things so we can move forward (and also stop accumulating garbage) but it gives me the sensation that a bit of me dies with each memory I throw away, my strength comes in keeping those moments within my heart and my soul instead these objects that eventually will get destroyed by time.

so I'm cleaning my room but regaining memories that seemed long past and putting them in the right place in me. maybe I'll die a little but reborn in the same amount by the joy, sorrow, pride and nostalgia that brings putting away these things…