Step 1 - get rid of crap

I am somewhat cheap, so I don't know how I came by all this stuff. One thing is obvious, I didn't buy most of it. Because its all crap. Maybe it didn't start out its life as crap, and maybe only under my care did it become crap, but crap it is. Two wing-back chairs, one with all the fabric ripped off, exposing its batting and horsehair innards like some sort of sick upholstery/boulangerie nightmare. Four pillows, all about an inch thick. Four stools. I have no accompanying stool-height table.
"Oh, I just don't know where all this stuff came from!," said Eliza. Liar.
You have secret hoarder-like tendencies!
Think back, Eliza - where did you get those horrible pillows? You know. They were piled forlornly on top of your mother's basement freezer. On the freezer. In the BASEMENT. Which means nobody wanted them anymore. They were useless. "Oh, pillows," you said. "How nice." The stools - you found them on big-trash day (like christmas to my hoarding-kin). "Stools! Perfectly good stools!" And the chairs... All I got to say about that is that they were smelly, too big for my apartment, required a hopeless amount of work, but when it came down to it, I couldn't bare to just leave them in that big empty house after being loved for 50 years. They were pouting at me. Sad, little chairs.
So I took them.
However, I am changing. I have got to change. Yurt livin' demands it! "Throw away the crap," said the yurt. "Oh, no, yurt, I couldn't. THROW away? Yurt - have you heard of Freecycle? Would that be acceptable?" And with the blessing of the yurt, I have freecycled so much junk. I've got people lined up to take my crap. Hahahaha... joke's on them. Suckers. Take my crap. You are lower than me, scum, collecting things from my front porch like empty CD and DVD cases, books, cat-scratched couches and dysfunctional end-tables. I am reformed - I have pledged to live in an anonymous, clutter-free, swedish-style home.


(but fellow comrades - please love the stools, the couch, the stained and dirty rugs, the worn and unworn books - my beloved junk. you thought you were getting a good home with me, dear crap, a second lease on life after everyone else discarded you. and now, i, too, leave you. i see your sad face as i deposit you on the porch to be picked up... however, have cheer! though you know it not, i do not abandon you, only leave you in the care of someone with space or time or a suspect mental condition. you will be safe.)

For I am yurt livin'. And on my way to being crap-free.