I just spent some part of the night deciding what things I’m ready to trash.

I’m a hoarder, and I realize I hoard for the same reasons I blog and I instagram, because I want to hang on to memories I’d otherwise forget. I’ve learnt not to lean on my own memory keeping capablities. The only ones I cling on to are either extremely beautiful or extremely painful and unfortunately the happiness derived from the littlest things are usually forgotten.

I didn’t realize there were so many things from my past relationship that I still hold on to, there are still so many things from people who are long gone from my life, or travels that I’ve been on long ago that I still stash in little corners. Each piece tells a story. Each map or ticket stub a memory I’d conveniently forgotten. Each letter or card or gift is a reminder that I once mattered to someone enough for them to take time off to write me something or think about what I’d like, and meet up to pass it to me.

I sometimes wonder if the extent of which I hoard memories is a problem. It’s like I’m pretty sure one day I’ll forget all these things.

For now, I’ll continue curating and throwing out what I’m ready to let go of.

Mashimaro was given to me by a group of JC friends on my 18th birthday!Β 

And this lovely huge bear was a choreographer’s gift given by some of my JDC dancers.

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