Junk

Over the years I have had to fight a genetically inherited disorder called junkitis. I collect crap, reams of crap, endless mostly useless crap. There are things which I possess and store which were packed away in roman times. Issues of pc magazines when 3dfx cards were king of the silicon hill, books on technology outdated since the seventies. I tell myself that this stuff may be valuable. But whom am I kidding?
I remember my grandfather storing stuff such as bolts, nuts, and an electric motor,which was used in a bizarre attempt to create better ventilation for a fireplace. It was used only once, as it did not work, then stored in the shed for twenty years, kept in the vague hope it might actually be used again. It never was.
Why do I have this affliction? Is there a cure? I keep this stuff in the vain hope it may prove useful but it never does. Even things, which were useful, are kept way beyond the use by date (I do not mean food)
I know I am afflicted; I go to my junkoholics anonymous group stand up and say, "my name is Charlie and I collect junk"
Tomorrow I have an unenviable job, as I must go junk cold turkey I must remove things and GET RID OF THEM. You will say "you have to do it!' but asking me to get rid of my stuff feels like cutting chunks off my flesh.
I am told this is a symptom of the consumer age and my freeloading spiritualist says it holds me back from true happiness.
I guess he is right, it can get to the point were instead of possessing things they begin to possess you. I have now decided that when I get something new, I must now get rid of something old to balance things out.
Peace and inner tranquillity beckons.