I love paper. I hate paper. What I mean is I love books, I can’t write anything but this blog and emails on the web. My mind reacts differently when there is a pen and a fresh notebook in hand. I am more creative, more honest in portraying who I am. I take books into my tub. Is this respectful?. Sometimes they get wet. I still keep them. If they have mildew on them I wash it with alcohol. It’s all good.
I hate paper because it is the only thing that I collect and can’t seem to throw out. I give away almost everything I own and I don’t own a lot. I’ve been told I don’t own anything a bit too many times. “You go on trips but you don’t own a stove”! NO! I do own a stove. It’s not working at the present time but I do own a stove. My washing machine is dying on me but it is fifteen years old. I have stuff. I have three televisions that don’t belong to me. They were left by the many guests who have stayed at my house rent free. I can’t throw out their paper either.
I have had many guests mostly non-paying who have inhabited my life. I don’t regret that but they always stayed too long and left stuff. I inherited a broken mini-trampoline that kept me busy for years until it was on two legs. I had no problem throwing that out, That guest Gina, left a whole room full of her stuff and told me a year later to throw everything out because she had bought more stuff.
The most bizarre of my guests was one I didn’t let in my house. She was a hoarder and lost her house. She lived across the street and I knew her for years. She spent most of her life sitting in the grass picking weeds and climbing on her roof to repair the unrepairable. I didn’t let her in because she wouldn’t take a shower and had two inches of dirt on her feet. She also was prone to violent outbursts.. She asked me if she could keep some stuff in my outdoor closet. Stuff like, computers, desks and paper, lots of paper. She has been gone 5 years and I can’t seem to throw her stuff out. I emailed her and she strongly told me not to throw it out. The night I wouldn’t let her in my house. She slept in said closet with her stuff. She never asked but what could I say? Why are you residing in my outdoor closet? She bought a bulb and camped out for a week. I have a small closet. At least she left. But her stuff stays on–
My house is empty. Well, except for papers. I have manuscripts of books to be, I have divorce papers from a myriad of husbands, I have a house deed. I have loan papers for my second mortgage. Papers, Papers and more papers. I hate those kind of papers. You are supposed to keep your bills for seven years. Why? That alone would take up a room of my house. I decided to get rid of all papers and start again. I mean really get rid of everything. I find I need very few things. I need my bath salt, shampoo and conditioner when I am up to washing my hair. I already have a comb, a brush. and a mirror I don’t look into because of my body dysmorphic disorder. . How many combs does a person need? I see people at Big Box department stores who want five of everything they don’t need. I read that 90% of things in big box stores are not necessities. So, I don’t go. Ok, maybe one of the reason I don’t go is because of my agoraphobia but it does save money. My bf buys the toilet paper, soaps etc that do get used. I use deodorant but it lasts longer for me than most people it seems. I don’t need one every week. But I digress.
It is not stuff that I am against. It’s taking care of stuff I don’t want. I don’t have to take care of the papers so I guess I don’t throw them out. I always think. Hey that was a good book, maybe I”ll read it again. Or, hey that poem is in my computer but what if my computer crashes or well you get the gist of it. I like papers but I hate them too.
People are similar. They annoy me when they think they can move in and leave all their stuff here. I don’t have stuff of my own so I use their stuff when they leave. I have mismatched plates, a few forks and spoons and my own pot thank you very much. I used to cook before my stove broke. Lest you think I am using their stuff because I don’t want to buy my own. you are right. I can’t see having more than one set of dishes. The friend that stayed for seven years and was poorer than me but constantly shopped at thrift stores. I have her dishes. She has good taste. She left them along with some nice scarves I put up as curtains. She left some books too. She didn’t leave papers or money.
I was told by my ex rich fiance that I was the owner of a flop house. I let people use me, that I should throw everything away and buy new stuff and by throw away he meant the people too. I didn’t listen and he left as well. He didn’t leave me anything though. (Funny about rich people.) I was living with him in Japan and he never threw out anything, well, except me, twice.
Don’t get me wrong. I like nice things. I just don’t like to have to dust it, polish it, clean it, guard it and especially pay for it. I’d rather go to London or Paris and experience life and continue living in my empty house. I have a chair. Ok, one chair, but my neighbor brought over a Lazy boy chair because her husband had gotten too big and he couldn’t get out of anymore so I couldn’t see it going to the landfill. They are clean people so I agreed. I never asked for it. The way I see it the universe brought it to me. It might be unusual for a woman not to like going shopping. I like to shop. I shop once a year, usually before a trip and it’s fun. Everything you do once a year is fun. Well sex is better when done more than once a year but you get the idea. Ok, back to paper.
Paper made me happy as a child. I wrote stories, I got letters from my cousin who lived less than 7 miles away. She always signed the back envelope “sealed with a kiss” Those were the days; real letters you wrote and put them in envelopes and licked the glue, so excited knowing you were going to get an answer back. Yes, we get answers back from emails but we had to wait for a letter. Waiting is good sometimes. Not for everything. Sometimes we wait too long for people to leave your house or sex he he
Paper still makes me happy. I still go out and buy new paper and pens when I have an idea for a good poem or story or goal but I realize that for my sanity I must get rid of those papers that make me upset, like bills. I hate bills. Bills should go away. I hate opening a bill. I hate keeping a bill. So, I decided to pay everything on-line. This way I never have to see a freakin bill ever again, mm lightbulb maybe this is why I don’t shop. No, I don’t shop , because I don’t have money. But if I had money I would do other things that spend the whole day at the W or K mart. I would spend one beautiful day at a quality store, like Nordrom’s who refuses to put up decorations until after Thanksgiving. That’s my kind of store. They started in Seattle where people care more about coffee than stuff.
I don’t understand people who have to have everything, keep everything and then buy a storage closet and pay for stuff they don’t have room for. Do they visit their stuff? I guess stuff is good for the economy but I refuse to buy stuff that won’t make me happy. Dogs make me happy. Peanut butter cups make me happy. Sex make me happy. Again I digress.
So, I called the Big Brothers, Big Sisters, and they picked up my stuff. I kept my computer one TV, bed and a few other things. I still can’t get rid of all my papers.