WhenDidAllThisStuffBecomeAMountain?

Some days, I look around my house and feel buried under the weight of all these things I've collected over the years.
It’s like every item has a story, but sometimes those stories just pile up until they start to collapse on me.
Feels overwhelming—like the stuff isn’t just physical clutter but a reflection of my mind in chaos.
Dreaming about it falling apart is strange, but maybe it's my brain’s way of telling me to sort through what really matters before everything tumbles down for real.