observer

feeling inexplicably bothered while cleaning out my room… every year I go through multiple periods of wishing I owned absolutely nothing and yet I manage to end up with so much clutter… what’s even happening. I consider myself a mindful shopper and I only shop secondhand but like… where’d this all come from.

I suddenly decided it was time to repaint the walls of my room but I’ve been having the dilemma of choosing a color and painting it on and hating it, so finding another I like and then hating it when it’s on the walls. So it’s fuckinf looking like graffiti coverup central in here. And then realizing hours after this defeat that this is all life is. Life is just constant this. Finding things that you think you like and then falling out from them, and into more things and repeating. Life is graffiti coverups. It’s graffiti in itself.