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2009-08-03 / 4:27 p.m. Cleaning out my room. I've thrown away so many memories in the past year. I thought it might be too difficult to let things go just like that. The things I keep are so sentimental to me - treasure. Trash to others. About three, maybe four years ago, we studied a poem in English class. I still have the piece of paper on which I wrote it down. I've held onto and I can't even begin to understand why. It just seemed harder to rid myself of the longer I kept it. It has to go now too. "In Bosnia, there are landmines The children come, quivering down - Rosia Boland |