Letting go of stuff

I feel like throwing out the majority of my stuff and just starting over
I have stacks of plates for non existent guests and clothes for parties I never go to
I mean man I can’t even do what I’m supposed to with these things that take up space
They just hold me in place and then they’ll just turn to dust as I hold on to them
But then again people write stories that turn into books in boxes
And boxes are full of memories, some sharp, some faded
A good chunk of those boxes get shoved in a dark corner until forgotten or until someone opens it and gets a papercut

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