Happy Monday everyone!
I have to say, this focus hits spot on for me today for so many different reasons. A huge part of why I decided to jump into the deep end with Steemit was a way to finally get out the huge clutch of memories that have never seen the light of day. Years of my life, thousands of thousands of miles traveled, and experiences which made me into the person I am, have lingered in the dark, just waiting to be told. Like all those old things in the basement hidden in boxes. My memories. I jokingly say that I'm doing all this writing for myself...but, in so many ways it's the truth.
So, when @mariannewest posted 'Yard Sale' for this mornings Five minute free write I chuckled for a couple minutes. It wasn't at all hard for me to link together concepts. How well I did it I'll leave up to you.
If you're wondering why I chose a pic of a train in winter, it's from one of my stories that I'll tell someday soon. From a mountain hot spring town called Gero. I found it last night on an hold hard drive. I used to go there quite a bit to camp and chill when I needed a minute away from the world.
So, without further ado... :)
Piled high on tables.
Stacked roughly in boxes. Strewn about randomly. Thoughtfully sorted in a system only 1 person understands. Tagged, untagged. Prices determined at a whim. Things you want, things you don't want. Cleaning house.
Junk to some, treasure to others. An X marked on a map for those who may desire to browse through someones history.
That's what it is, a look through someones past.
Thrown out into the public for all to view. The childhood teddybear, a well-worn couch blanket, an old TV, games that built their youth. Strangers dig through it all in search of their own future.
A mind must do this. Sell the old to make way for the new. Holding on forever to the bric-a-brak only clutters. Each of those tagged (and untagged) things, bits of physicality, a weight preventing movement.
Memories are good.
They provide foundation, traction, defnition. But, moving forward is impossible when the things that created them begins to clutter, to fill up, to keep new from being brought in.
Putting them out on display for others to browse through is a difficult time. But to move forward it must be done.
When I write I'm having my own 'Yard Sale.'
It may be a case of mixed metaphors or something, but that's how I feel. I'm 'selling' my stories so that I can uncluttered my mind, the prices undetermined, and those who read looking to make their own future with them. My memories of those times remain, but the physical remnant no longer clutters. The space now freed, I'm able to move forward. Hopefully...
Written on the unforgiving bastard of a website The most dangerous writing app
Thank you for stopping by and reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts :)
Michael
Similar Posts
Five minute free write - palimpsest
Five minute free write - Yesterday
Five minute free write: the smell from within