Uncluttering my desktop is sometimes a tremendous task.
I wonder, is it too much, or do I just imagine it to be?
Do I dread getting lost in the process?
I look around my office, which is a huge garage,
and I find the answer.
Bad practices and clinging on to things which are irrelevant or unimportant is common.
For those who are new money,
for those who have never had the things they wanted.
Sanity suggests I should sweep everything away back from whence it came,
but practicality suggests that these items have value to someone.
Where do I strike a balance and find guidance?
I walk into one corner and I find untenable insanity.
I can't even begin to understand.
I walk into another and find the whole of the status quo,
I can not swallow this either...
I walk to yet another corner and I find the comfort of the gestalt of myself.
I could wallow here forever,
remaining ignorant.
In the last corner I find a speachless infinity.
Similar to the insanity of the first,
but utterly without the boundries with which I could measure myself.
I could accept that I am crazier than a mother fucker.
I can not empirically prove this is so.
I would have to define that profane realization.
What is left?
Whatever is in the middle?
It's even more muddled than all the rest.
But this is my room.
I can only exist in it.
I should sort through the ashes now.
I'll just dip my fist into the millions of them,
and see what I pull out.
That's all I'll pay attention to from now on.
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