All this is mine

Every time I come in my room, I get a weird feeling. I think to my self: "All this stuff is mine." That's my bicycle standing right across of me. I have my laptop, my camera. I've got an exercise ball that I almost never use. That I almost never use. Most of the stuff that I have is things that I simply own, I just have them. I have books that I haven't even read. I have clothes that I have not worn in months. There's just too much  of everything. Too much. What for? What is stuff for? It makes me sick. It makes me sick to every pore of my body. I get goosebumps when thinking of this. What makes it even worse is that I can't throw things away. A part of me says that I will need this again some day. And, to be fair, I'm probably right. But who knows when that day will come. I have things. It makes me sick. I don't need most of them. What makes me sick even more is that there's people who haven't got a thing. There's people who wish they had a bed and clean bed sheets to sleep at night. There's pretty little girls and women in the world that would die to have at least one piece of jewellery, so that they could wear it to feel special. But do they need it? No. It is not a live-or-die necessity. Do they feel special anyway? What makes them feel special? Family? God? Religion? Traditions? Children? Money? Job? What makes YOU feel special? When was the last time you felt special?

I wish I had more. Not stuff, but wisdom. I wish I had the strength to be who I could be.

Not sure where I was going with this. Basically, I want to be able to stop buying material things.





All that aside, I believe I have decided what I want to do for my one-a-moth thing for June. The idea is to buy a big canvas, or just a simple BIG piece of paper (big meaning something like 2-3 m squared). Then buy some paint, some cheap stuff. AND then paint this big piece of space by using feet and hands. You know, kind of like letting things out of my system in a creative sort of way. Then I could stick this thing to a wall, or to the ceiling in my room. Or toss it out. It is the process that will matter. In most things in life the process is more important than the actual final result. Just something I like to think about.


Lately I've been thinking too much, again. About so many things that it would be even impossible to write it all down, not even in point form. Yeah.. So many things racing through my head all the time. I'm morally tired.