GraybeardGhost
Well-known member
Oh, it's heavy today, real heavy.
I made some progress yesterday—went through some boxes of books and weeded some out for the thrift shops—but today I look around and things don't look any different. I've been going at this for months, and it seems like I've achieved nothing, like all the boxes, drawers, cabinets, and heaps of papers, all the sweat and grime have been for nothing. I've dug and I've sorted and I've schlepped I don't know how many boxes and bags to the shops, but I've accomplished nothing. The mountain of garbage that is my home is no smaller than when I began. I can almost hear it laughing at my puny efforts.
And I'm lonely.
And I'm ugly.
And I'm useless, a disappointment, destined never to amount to anything.
And it's heavy, real heavy, and I don't think I can hold up much longer. I really don't know why I should.
I made some progress yesterday—went through some boxes of books and weeded some out for the thrift shops—but today I look around and things don't look any different. I've been going at this for months, and it seems like I've achieved nothing, like all the boxes, drawers, cabinets, and heaps of papers, all the sweat and grime have been for nothing. I've dug and I've sorted and I've schlepped I don't know how many boxes and bags to the shops, but I've accomplished nothing. The mountain of garbage that is my home is no smaller than when I began. I can almost hear it laughing at my puny efforts.
And I'm lonely.
And I'm ugly.
And I'm useless, a disappointment, destined never to amount to anything.
And it's heavy, real heavy, and I don't think I can hold up much longer. I really don't know why I should.