It’s funny how many things in life we just seem to accumulate. Useless objects, things we hide away in drawers and cupboards unused yet we don’t throw them away. Why is that? Myself, I am awful at it. I have boxes of things from my childhood at teen years that I will never use or look at again, but when the spring clean time comes around and they’re rediscovered I never have the heart to throw them away. It’s funny how attached we get to things. Items. Objects. Pieces of plastic and metal intertwine in a certain way to make something new, something different. Pretty things, shiny things, broken things, torn things, I keep them all, because each one holds a memory. It’s like throwing away a piece of me as if I am cutting off long hair to the scalp. Photographs too. I have so many photographs of so many things. Family, friends, people I used to call friends… I don’t throw these away or delete them because if I do it's losing a part of my life I will never get back. But its only plastic. Its only millions of tiny pixels displayed in the right sequences to show a memory of a time you wouldn’t even remember happened anyway. Still, you keep it. Place it back in the box, under that chair in your mothers’ wardrobe, waiting until next year comes. Repeat.