Give me less.
I’m in that frame of mind where all I need is my personal space, my loves and the open road.
The stuff I own is just that – stuff.
It takes up space and pays no rent.
My memories and my pictures will forever be invaluable, everything else probably doesn’t have as much value as it did one day.
It came upon me quickly.
My life feels crowded.
With tablet in hand I can access the world and walk around with my personal valet.
Somebody else can host, somebody else can take the reins, this body is ready to be a guest.
Show me your wares, show me your stuff and let me be enamored by your love of all of it.
I’ve done my time with the Jones and we’ve kept up with each other quite well.
It’s time to enter a creation where my material things sit in the ether, they fulfill my free spirit and they nourish my portable life.
All is easier said than done, but the thought has been born and has taken flight.
It’s like the first sentence of a post that leads me to its natural conclusion.
I need space.
I need fresh air.
I need love.
I need Netflix.
I need less.
And I’m going to get me so much more of it someday soon.