Archaeological Dig

Posted by S. , Monday, February 7, 2011 6:01 PM

Decided to "streamline" my wardrobe, as it doesn't really fit into the space provided where I live, and I just know I'll never get around to sewing, patching, etc some items with some tears. In the process of doing a triage of items (I do need to keep something warm and summerlike for June), I threw out a fair amount of items that I probably should have ditched months ago, or simply never brought. I came across one such tshirt, that would require a fair amount of blue thread, to fix a tear along the seams....and remembered that it was what I was wearing on a particular day in September in which I had no voice, was on a boat at Smokey Hill... and, well... a chain of feelings and events was set in motion, in which I found myself returning here. So, the blue shirt, much like a picture I found while attempting to clean up my inbox on hotmail, remains with me, and not deleted or tossed out in the trash, despite the feelings it evokes.

In typical me-style, I am dealing with all of this by writing out the truth, some key information and details. In the past, this is how I've dealt with this type of situation. How many letters actually got sent/delivered to their addressee? Zero. That's right, they all eventually ended up in the garbage. Fear? No. That's not the cause at all, believe me. I'm at the same place that I went to with those previous guys and letters; debating whether I deliver it, or trash it. Delivering it might not change anything, it might change everything; throwing it out means moving on. Time to do some deep-thinking on what I really feel and want. And to see where a piece of purple paper makes its way to in the next days.