People claim that a person carries around baggage from the past. I suppose I should sort mine out. I'll put the fights, agonies and despairs in one pile. Maybe I'll add crying, too. I can sort the stress, anxiety, peer pressure and insecurity into a nice stack. In a box to the side, I'll put frizzy hair, blemishes and slamming doors. I can label it teen years. But I guess that's not all. I'll pull out the memories of warm Saturday mornings, lazy summer days and recess during springtime. The sweet scents of our freshly mowed lawn and the cool emersion of summer's first swim will pile up in the corner. Now there's only one question; where am I supposed to put all of this?