freewrite

my room is a time capsule graveyard of porcelain dolls stuck head-down in an old baby cradle nestled among deflated teddy bears, too many duffel bags, when did i get so many duffel bags, i remember packing things and bringing them home every school break, deciding what i wouldn't need for the rest of the year, now they're stacked like firewood and i am so overwhelmed in this room, this tomb and shrine to upper middle class adolescence, and girl adolescence, and jewish adolescence and queer/gay adolescence, they're indistinguishable, they're chaotic, they're overwhelming, i hate this room, i came from this room, this room is the shit i grew out of, literally, like fertilizer and old clothes, i need to get rid of stuff in this room, almost compulsively, how can i just toss, toss, toss? who around here would take any of my stuff anyway? it's not like i have friends here, rich OR poor.