Having just black bagged some old toys to go up in the loft, i now feel a little like a toy murderer.
The logical and well adjusted side of my brain knows they don't actually have feelings but the five year old girl part of my brain is wide-eyed and sobbing at the possibility that i just sent some beloved soft toys up to their doom in lofty purgatory...
Listening to: Bugge Wesseltoft 'We'll Be Together Again'
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