emptiness

whump. click. slide.

i shut and locked the door after my friends left. i turned around and saw my living room in its clean state. i had made it through a visit with the only embarrassment being the fact that i forgot to move my mop and bucket out of the guest bathroom before everyone arrived. i blame it on the fact that i walked in the door all of 300 seconds before they did.

anyway, my living room in its clean state is nice enough, i guess. what it is, though, is empty. one wall has my sofa against it. the space above my sofa is empty. along the next wall you see has my guitar, next to the tv, and my favorite wall hanging. the wall across from my sofa, against the stairs, is all bare and white. the last wall is that of my door and a window and a loveseat, with a tiny little monet by the window.

i now know another reason why i usually live in such a mess.

true, i enjoy being messy simply because i CAN be messy. i enjoy exercising my freedom as a grown-up single person living alone to mess up my place. it is with glee that i do so sometimes. and true, i am often pressed for time so i leave things here and there; i do use that excuse on occasion. mostly i am just a slob and lazy, and i don't like to put things away right away. but i've just discovered that the emptiness that i see when my place is clean makes me feel as though my life is just a little empty too. my solitude is intensified by the open, barren whiteness of the place. clutter creates the illusion of busyness, intent, purpose-- it makes for a comforting distraction.

it's not a major influencing factor; it's rather subliminal and most certainly subconscious, seeing as how i didn't figure out i felt that way 'til just now, after living all alone for 4-5 years. i also think it's a little bit sick.

my plan? i guess i'll just have to keep my place clean and get over that feeling. chances are i'll end up replacing the clutter with music, having it on all the time. we'll see.