Laundry

Someone asked me once why I don't like laundry

I told them that it was because Laundry made me think of dying.

Laundry, the task that is never finished. Just like washing dishes. 

You wear your clothes, get them dirty while you live in them. 

Then you throw them in the hamper, which you know will fill up. 

Once it's full, you have to wash those clothes again and again and again and again. 

An endless task. 

A task that when performed by me, is lonely.

 When I'm alone, I think of death. 

When I have to do meaningless tasks that I know I will never be able to finish, I think of death.

 When I think of death, I feel sad. 

Sad that, at some point, all the importance I might have on this world will be forgotten. 

Laundry makes me sad. 

When I wash laundry I think about all of the people in the world that do not have water to drink, let alone, to wash their clothing in.

 Laundry makes me think  of the homeless, the clothes-less, and sickness. 

Clothing gives me life, brings me happiness. 

Laundry brings me into a deep, pitch-black sadness.

Laundry is overwhelming, because no matter how hard I try...I will never conquer laundry.

 I let it build into piles on my cold basement floor...as if to say "Ha! you don't own me. 

I will never be a slave of yours!" In reality, those piles stir and stir and stir my anxiety, leaving me shaky on a warm sunny day.

 It is then that I realize I am a slave to laundry. 

Though some would say washing laundry is trivial, laundry will never be trivial to me.

 Laundry is death and death is important. 

Death means the end of life. 

I want to keep living, and that is why I choose not to do my laundry. 

Laundry is death, and I choose life. 

Reviews

[Serena]

I don't know what to say to this. Very deep.