Why I threw away my Shiny Disco Ball

Today I’m saying goodbye to my 14" shiny disco ball. You’re probably categorising this as attention seeking behaviour. It’s a fucking piece of decor. And some part of me is saying that too. Agreeing that I’m being ridiculous but also finding it difficult to let go of a commitment.

I’m feeling upset about giving it away. To the extend of wanting to apologise to the taker for this false promise of giving and keeping it. So that it continues to collect dust, hanging from a suspicious hook on my ceiling.

Why am I feeling this way? It’s just glass and clay. It has no memories. No significance. It’s not a gift from an ex lover nor is it something exotic I bought from a mysterious shop owner, in a forgotten bazaar. Nothing out of the ordinary. It quietly reflects in a corner, minding its own business. I could talk about how it’s been with me through every moment of the last 10 years of my life and how much that means to me, but I will call bullshit before one of you do.

I’d watched a movie on a plane journey recently called ‘Infinitely Polar Bear’. It’s about a man who suffers from manic depression. Individuals who suffer from it, have a tendency to collect junk and are not able to part with it. Individuals who tend to relate everything in the world to their lives are also known as ridiculous and self absorbed. But it got me thinking. Holding on to insignificant pieces of junk only results in clutter. And being in that environment will depress you. Same goes for insignificant people. We hold on, don’t let go and fail at being happy.

This is me trying to be happy.

Goodbye Sparkles.

Ps* It’s not a terrible idea to watch Infinitely Polar Bear. Before you judge the recommendation based on my writing and love for cheesy romance, rotten tomatoes gave it 80%. So there’s your approval, you pretentious worm.