Assassinating Junk

As you may know, my parents have problems with hoarding junk. As they say, one man's junk is another man's treasure, but you know it works the opposite way? It's their choice, and I can't change their minds about it. I can only do so much, then I have to take a lesson from God, and give them up to uncleanness.

I've learned that, barring them giving it up on their own, we're not getting rid of the treasure. Thus, I have to learn to live with it. I am a human. Humans? We're very adaptable. Just look at Samus Aran. She's extremely adaptable. She is the embodiment of adaptability. And morph-ball prowess. And genocidally speaking, she's very good. And she wears red/orange really, really well. Did you know she did to red/orange what Princess Zelda did to pink? She also wears blue well.

I am going to transform my room into a sanctuary, a blue zone if you will. In Command and Conquer, the planet is broken into three zones of livability:

• Red zones (which are inhospitable)
• Yellow zones (which are livable but hellish) and
• Blue zones (which are clean and safe)

That's pretty much the breakdown of our house. Except that right now we have no blue zones. We only have walls/refrigerators (red zones), and junk (yellow zones.) (OK, it's not really quite that bad. Only impeccably clean qualifies as a blue zone.)

So I'm going to get out my sonic emitter (Command and Conquer humor, you wouldn't understand) and get to work. First things first, I am going to check out Google Calender. Mark Nickosian, one of our resident cool guys, mentioned that he uses a "scheduling program from Google." Apparently, you can set it to pop up and alert you to things.


So I cleared off the entire top shelf of my closet. Then I emptied out 4 of 6 drawers from my dresser. Everything on the top shelf, as well as in the drawers, was compiled into a large box that takes up 1/5th of my closet shelf space, and a box that's going into the Yellow Zone. If I don't care enough about something to shelter it lovingly (not grudgingly) in my room, I send it to be examined by my parents before I throw it out. Then it's out of my hair.

The rest, I put into stasis. I archive it; stasis is a cooler word. That's the box I mentioned that takes up 1/5th of my closet space.


I realized something.

If I find anymore useless knick knacks and either archive them or else throw them out (there are verses running through my head; "accusing or else excusing"), I'll soon have no more stuff. So I have a decision to make. I stand on the porcupine precipice of having a cluttered or a clear room. Do I get scared and back away, or push on with an unrelenting, dire campaign of destruction?




I think you know the answer. In other news, I am pretty sure I'm sleepwalking. Isn't that wiggy?