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thoughts on some belated spring cleaning

The Myth of Sisyphus Albert Camus
said: ". We must imagine Sisyphus as a happy person" So what can only say, who has never made his house clean themselves. How could you also do happy work that follows the drama of a horror movie: even if you have done evil, there is always, always.
I would just like to clean it over, would be able to say: These windows are now ready geputz. They are clean. Point. I have once and for all. The ball remains on the mountain. Closing time.
No, it's all over again happening. Cleaning is the saddest thing in the world. We must think of Albert Camus as a married man.

praises of disorder
Who loves the organization strives for eternal truth. Everything should take its immovable place in the world. The aesthetics of the love of order is the immutable idea of the one on which there can be no different.
Who loves the mess that loves life. The things in my apartment are not where they belong, singles where I last used. They are tracks that I have left in the world. They tell a story, my story. The short pants on the floor told me on rainy days that It also has sun once in my life. The dust layer on the stove can be seen when I last cleaned. The number of items lying around pants make the days since my last laundry.
The cup with the tea leaves say that I am not a tea drinker. On the table lies a pile of letters that tell of things that need to be done. Sorted by urgency. The most urgent are at the bottom. When I last played guitar, you can listen to the detuning of the strings. I see a hair brush, a tape, a ruler and a CD case, a stack of books, pens, a button from the May 2, a water bottle, the cutting board, which I always supper eat. I would lick it, I could taste the essence of everything I've eaten in recent days. Disorder is frozen in time, memory, change.
A freshly renovated apartment may be beautiful. But it is not cold, lifeless and without a history? When God created the world he did not order but disorder. The universe is nothing but the dirt that God has left everywhere. Each creature is lying around in the world of God note, a thought written down by God, which is located right where God has him thought up. In Zebra, he noted the idea of striped, in the giraffe's idea of the neck, the elephant, the idea of the nose. His megalomania expressed He made the dinosaurs. Later he was ashamed of it, crumpled the note and threw it in the trash, where we find them still again occasionally.