sifted sorted stacked

Packed and stacked. I can delay it no longer.

Paranoia of transcience kicks. Longing for the stop drop and roll. I wonder at this world of transience I have built for myself and whether it has it's origins in genetics.

When I feel guilty or doubtful I start browsing realestate.com. Mystified by the six figure sums and ads for donors. Deciphering security from a parade of obligatorys. Shouldn't I have left these things behind long ago.

Do I move so much so I can be missed? Is the constant shuffle of the same cards a poor imitation of social change? Am I procrastinating in this whirlwind? Or is my psyche a little too atuned to the wind?

These are questions that still need answering as my bedroom remains untouched. I try to find them in the sifting. Try to sort them in the piles