My mother asked me a while ago what possessions I have that I actually care about- I believe this was a stab at my inability to take care of things- but I didn't really have an answer, except for my journals, which are dwindling as electronic writing replaces them by the day.
Don't get me wrong, I have stuff, but I could definitely live without this stuff, which is evident in the way my room looks all the time. The pile of things I regret buying are tangible, and pile of non-regret purchases are invisible, like all my dmb concerts; meaningful experiences I wouldn't regret spending money on in a second.
On that note I am seriously looking forward to seeing Incubus in August from the PIT, they are the most poetic band to experience.
Start a grueling summer class tomorrow.
I'm feeling pretty low tonight.