It was gut wrenching, watching my CDs get sold off for a tiny fraction of what I purchased them for.
But it was needed.
An exercise to comprehend how little value an object has to another. The perceived value behind CDs and the brand of a band.
I do not use my laptop to listen to music from these CDs, yet I clung onto them.
A desperate attempt to stay 17. The core identity within myself. A girl who doesn't listen to Mainstream pop bull shit.
The only bull shit was the dust settling on these untouched CDs, which I have used Spotify to replace them.
A painful reality hit when I sold them away. A loss of identity for an hour. A twinge of nostalgia. A lot of self pity and sadness.
Quite traumatizing, really.