my thoughts, my thoughts my thoughts my thoughts

Whatchu gon do with all that junk
All that junk inside that trunk?

Well, I had to clean it out.

I'm talking about the trunk of my car. I cleaned it out this summer, and in doing so managed to erase a great part of my personal history. Listen. Most of that junk had been accumulating in there since graduation; so naturally there were a lot of happy moments stuffed in there. Each object gave off the gas of memory (wow, bad writing), from happy cards I got at graduation (and especially one in particular) to stars from the prom with the glitter-drawn names almost fully faded to pages and pages of sheet music from duets and songs I had played at piano concerts. This is not the whole list; tennis rackets, which even for a month or two weren't all mine, textbooks that I had failed to sell back to the Prep or to Tufts, and a bunch of beautiful clutter that made it difficult to get the replacement tire out of the car, remember that? Yes, with all that junk, all that junk inside that trunk, I was ridin' dirty and rollin' for quite some time, but the time came to clean it out.

And so ended an era.