Living in the past

Sometimes I hate holding on to things. I hate having lug books from house to house. I hate having to navigate through hundreds of thousands of photos. I hate having boxes and boxes of clippings for collages taking up half my closet. Sometimes this hatred gets the best of me, and I decide to clean house if you will. But I never really get rid of them. All those books, they've given me so much pleasure, so much insight, they're more like old friends than old books. And although it can be obnoxious, looking at all those photos and clippings can provide me with such pleasure. The nostalgia of my photographic past. And all that joy is worth the suffering.