Moving my mom into a home next month and dealing with the lifetime of Meaningful Things she has piled up everywhere.

Meanwhile I live in a studio apartment and whenever I clean, if I haven’t looked at it or used it in a year I give it away/throw it out.

When I die only my writing will be left, and that will probably fade from cultural memory more quickly than I’d like.

There’s probably a happy medium to be found somewhere. Maybe I’ll start carving my name on trees or deface priceless artwork.