reading —how we live is how we die— about letting go of attachments and preferences and stuff i think of my old box studio apartment with all my objects waiting there. it's like a bardo of dispossessions, though i haven't let go. i might not die yet but i don't want to leave it like that for someone else to dump. how do i sort it? argh. but i need to think of it in a lighter way, like grateful for the time and the company of things i wanted.