I was feeling… agitated tonight. So I decided to start shredding the shit I wouldn’t want anyone else to find or to have to deal with when I’m gone. Holy shit, how cathartic! I shredded for over an hour, until I’d filled a big black garbage bag, and now I’m tired of listening to the “whirrrr” and feel like I can go to bed and continue tomorrow.
Everything just made me think that I’m not losing a thing, not a fucking thing, if I decide not to stay around. Here are all my nicely filed receipts, from when I had a real job and did professional development! Here’s an old lease from when I was still married!
All of it attesting to the hope I had back then, that I thought having more bills than money and more work than fun was just a step along the way — not that I thought “I’ll be happy when,” because I was a hell of a lot happier long long ago than I am now. It’s just, it’s all records of a life that I’m never going to live. So fuck it! Into the shredder it goes! Entire folders from the filing cabinet, of shit that eventually I started shredding face down so I wouldn’t have to see what it was. Now there’s no evidence of that, for me or anyone else.