by Matthew Roberts
That point where, being back home, among the layers of stuff and things and detritus of my life, having a weird room that’s just-a-bit-big and not the right shape, along with several other instances and annoyances, have become a little too much to handle. I want to “do” something, or “fix” something, and cannot for the life of me understand where I should begin. And I’m not good at getting rid of things. Probably part of the reason that I like to be in Eugene, less years for objects to pile up around me.