The past few days [& most likely some more future days] I've been moving house.
I'm probably the only person that enjoys moving.I find excitement in the fact that it's a new place to live,that I can set it up differently,that I can observe the characteristics of my new abode & absorb the fact that everything is fresh.
I'm sharing a place with one of my loveliest friends,Crispy.
Crispy,yeah he's cool.
Moving houses also allows me to indulge in my secret desire to be an interior designer,even though I'm probably really shit.
I've also noticed that the more I move,the less I bring with me.I like that fact.I've culled so many material possessions out of my life over the past
couple of years that I'm left with barely anything & most people might find that horrifying,but I find it crazily liberating.In the end it's all just "stuff" & it's frightening to realise that we can become so attached & defined by the objects we acquire over time.I dunno,that's just me I guess.