God, I'm weak.

I finally got the motivation to clean up my area seeing how there is nothing else I can do but that since I'm all braindead when all of a sudden I find things from various "happy moments" of my past in my drawers and in my desk. A black t-shirt from D.A.R.E. from when I was in Oregon, another black shirt that said "I survived the Tower of Terror" from my second trip to Walt Disney World, a white shirt with a drawing I did from that youth program they were doing in Kentucky when we went up there for some reason, a battery operated kenetic model from several Christmases long pass that I used to play with till I ate threw all the packs of batteries we had, a small, paper sculpture that looked like something Red Grooms would have made if I hadn't had screwed up and used too much glue, cards that used to hold large amounts of birthday and Christmas and even graduation cash in them. I even found my old swimming trunks from the days I used to love swimming.

It was at this point I couldn't go throw with cleaning up my area just to make room for all the stuff that I had to unpack. I didn't want to find all those buried treasures from the times when I was happy if only for a moment. It was too painful. It's painful because...

...I have no one to share the discovery with...

...or for that matter, the memory with...

I could find every single buried treasure in my room, but all that will pale in comparision to the one true treasure of life I have lost. That treasure I can't ever get back now. That's impossible.