packing and unpacking

What i hate most about travelling is the packing and unpacking. it's a close call, especially when you have to lug your luggage down the overhead bridge like the one above. the worst part is that what goes down must come up. when i first lugged it down, i was thinking: oh shit, how the hell am i going to lug it back up when i leave?

packing and unpacking is very difficult, maybe mentally more than physically. it's really more than trying to decide what you need, what you don't need, and trying to squeeze in everything you need, and then trying to slam the suitcase shut.

it's not really 收拾行李，but 整理心情.

how can you pack all your emotions, memories into a suitcase? how can you expect that what you packed would suffice? and when you take them out again, how can you not be overwhelmed by the memories, the emotions? and when you realise that these will forever be consigned to history, how can you not feel small, not feel as though you are being swallowed up by the world?

i think my description above doesn't do justice to what i am trying to describe. i suppose it is one of those things that internally you know exactly how it is like, but if you were to express it in words, you can never find the right words for it.

it's the same with sorting through photos. i think it's part of packing and unpacking. when you look at the photos, perhaps you will smile. but you will also be hit by that emptiness, because you know you might not be going back to that photo again. and even if you do, it's never ever going to be the same again.

i haven't really finished unpacking.