life inside moving boxes

i woke up smelling a strong scent of farewell, that made me feel very unease with my own space. wondering if its just upset or feeling betrayed of whats going to happen with the following days.
so despite the gloomy and heavy weather, i stood up and look at the piles of boxes just waiting in front of me. never did i imagine that the last four years of my life could fit in just eight boxes. made me wonder how many will be added in a year span? what will be inside each? and how much more will it be a day before i die?

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even memories were absent in each corners of my room that day despite all the turbulent turns that happened; all the faces, acts and events. in a way, the absence made me feel, indeed, very hollow. it was if nothing really changed. that the same boy, who went down to the city four years ago from the comfort of a place he already called home; will still try his luck and be gathering all his courage again to gamble with another set of cards.

i guess, this is another version of what they call (literally) moving on.

but its just surprising how everything and everyone can be put inside boxes. how life can be placed in corners. and how my life, at least in this picture, is included inside it. the mere thought even made the day gloomier. or probably its just me again, always having hard time saying goodbye despite all the clutter.