Come on, give me the chills

Thoughts about changing, life, and whatever comes to mind.

selling the old

We are moving into the new house and I started selling old comics to make space and avoid having them around while moving on the new house.

And I felt like melancholy? Mostly because I was attached to them.

But then you look at the boxes we packaged and you think about how many things do I own, how those things define my life?
They usually don’t.
What’s in the boxes could be trashed probably, but we still prepare them to have their own place.