A curious combination of catharsis and melancholy
I've been chucking stuff out. The new pad is small, and I've got to be brutal with my tat unless I fancy living in a Mr Trebus-style warren of filth and kipple. So out go the 2002 hiking gear catalogues; out go the four versions of the Aleph rules (I've kept one, just because); out goes paperwork dating back to... well, to Old Times. Fare well, old Rollright blurb and Council Tax demands. Have a good trip, Vampire notebooks and that unfinished psi-combat system and that whole Penders debt business.
And while this is all rather melancholy, it's also wonderfully cathartic. New broom! New place! New stuff! New opportunities to make a mess and blow shit up!
I'm keeping the very, very old photos of Spike, though.
Oh, I have an old Lazer Tag gun and sensor and a copy of the Compleat Tagger with circuit diagrams. Before I Ebay it, does anyone want dibs?
And while this is all rather melancholy, it's also wonderfully cathartic. New broom! New place! New stuff! New opportunities to make a mess and blow shit up!
I'm keeping the very, very old photos of Spike, though.
Oh, I have an old Lazer Tag gun and sensor and a copy of the Compleat Tagger with circuit diagrams. Before I Ebay it, does anyone want dibs?