packing: taking accounts of my life

So Weird. My life in boxes. Hah. Not quite yet. My past in photos, letters, old Christmas cards from friends. Message of encouragement, Angry words, happy moments. Some I am forced to decide whether to keep or to let go. What to carry with me away, what to leave behind. What to remember, what to forget.
Official letters from schools, CPF, employment agents, banks. No longer significant. Insurance policy notes--I want to throw away but can't seem to be able to.
Old photographs and postcards--some no longer make sense.
Gifts, trinklets, things I bought on the spur of the moment. Not worn. Some still in packages. Waiting still to be opened.--Do I give these away.
So many possessions--some which define my past, some I have yet to give life to.
Blank note books.
Old books I have read time and again.
Chlidren stories, cartoon tapes, CDs I use to love.
Do I throw them away? Are there people who can give them a better home?
So many things. Things. My things. Things which use to matter,
still matter, might matter
Things which are part of me, abundant, redundant, unimportant, vital.
Evidence of places I've been to, things I hve said, thoughts I have thought of.
Friends who lit up my life, some I have lost, some I still treasure.
All these taken account of, as I savour some of these captured moments
yet to consider the unknown and to know that life is a journey
always a decision between carrying a burden, a history of our past and to travel light into the unknown.
To throw or not to throw, that is the question.