I stood in my room, completely overwhelmed by my mess. I counted, a paper bag jammed with handbags. Over 20 pairs of shoes, some I have never ever wore before or remember buying. Bottles of virtually untouched lotions and creams, crammed into a straw basket. Rows of lipgloss, eye shadow and perfume. Clothes, double of every style and colour, brimming from my cupboard. Notebooks, all half empty, sit around. To add to the mess, coasters, souvenirs, photos and unwrapped presents.
and suddenly I felt extremely empty and hollow and meaningless and undeserving.
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1 comment:
:P I thought those kind of things weren't really meant to bring too much meaning. Well an instant happiness kind of meaning but not a long lasting one.
Besides packing up a room is always depressing regardless
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