Every other month, I want to clean up my old hard disk, which I had used from 2014 to 2016, a turbulent and creative time in my life.

The disk holds thousands of thousands of folders; my video folder (of which 90% is original content I created) alone weighs 285.2 GiB with 7132 files and 366 sub-folders.

I know where every file resides. I know that disk better than anything else. It treasures an incredible perspective on how I’ve been during puberty.

I want to clean it up and stuff its contents into a neatly organised folder structure.

But I can’t.

Looking at videos about my real life now, it feels as if they were created by someone else than me. I know I had made them, but it doesn’t feel like I could have ever been such an inspired and heartwarming shithead, uh, person.

If I cleaned the disk, there would be room in my life for great things to come. It would also kill my beloved directory structure and take a piece of my life with it.

Is there a point in nostalgia?