As I fold 2 pairs of new Jeans into the closet I think about shopping, about money, about the socio-economic class I was a part of before the break up and how right now, though I feel much poorer, my bank account is more balance, I still go out a lot and I actually to consume so much more culture, spending less on more and how for most of it, I feel better cause I don’t go on crazy shopping sprees or able to afford anything I want, and then I think about how in the last few years of the relationship and out of a care to our future I didn’t go to any shopping sprees at all, how it all went into savings and how, me and my ex, literary sold our presence, chunk by chuck for the obscure promise of a stable future, a future we only wanted to escape from, having enough money to not having to work, having enough money to be able to do art or meditate or do nothing all day, and how now, even with being at work 9 hours a day I still manage it do my art and still manage to do art, and meet people and the fact that feeling that I don’t have any spare time’s good cause it means I’m keeping busy, I’m building myself.
I put random shoes into pairs and put them in the closet, I take the small living room chair, the 3 IKEA stools and the new stool that I found on the street, I take the messy ugly living room carpet, the one me and my ex bought, so many years ago in some fancy store, but that now is dark with grease and left over food rubbed into fabric, and I put all of them on the bed and I sweep the room with a broom and watch small dried petals and of dust,, a combination of sand, ash and dead human skin, and too many of my hair piles larger and larger, and I scoop it up and put it in the trash, then I pour bleach on the floor and water and trying to get into those corners which I never manage to get into, I drag the water with a squegee along the two rooms, knowing that I’m not too good at cleaning, knowing that under the bed and the TV unit there’s still loads of dust and that when I move out of here and pack my books and take of those boxes from the up shelve, I feel like I’m not clean enough person. But the water do turn gray and I lead then toward the shower where they flows down the drain.
I pour bleach over a piece of cloth and I scrub the toilet.