I got rid of a lot of the old, bad junk

I got rid of a lot of the old, bad junk, and discovered a lot more junk waiting for me underneath. I can’t keep up with it.

I’m having a dream almost every night where I am packing to leave college or return to college or move from Missouri, and I keep encountering more junk to contend with. I don’t know what to do with it. A lot of it belongs to my dad.

Maybe it’s the most obvious sort of metaphor–all of the memories and emotional baggage and sins that linger underneath my waking radar. Or, maybe it’s just that I still am too attached to this world in areas I thought I was disengaged.

I would say that most of my issues now are at least the issues of an average, sinful dude, rather than some weirdo or adolescent or pervert.

I am not nearly as nice of a person as I once thought I was, but I don’t think I am bound for hell, either. I am not a sinner beyond repair–just a sinner who needs a lot more work and time than first estimated.