My House Cannot Be a Landfill
“Those that have ideas for such a thing don’t have the money for such a thing. And those that have the money for such a thing don’t prioritize such a thing.” —Janel
There’s a certain heartbreak that comes with awakening—not the spiritual kind, but the kind that stares into your kitchen and sees a broken toaster oven, a pile of plastic lids, cords with no mates… and feels guilty for not knowing what to do with them.
I’ve started to see every object in my home with a longer lens. From blueprint to landfill, I can’t stop thinking about the full lifespan of the things I buy. I wonder: Where did this start? How much Earth did it consume to come into being? How much damage will it cause when it dies?
We don’t talk about that enough. We celebrate the “haul,” but not the haunting. We have no ritual for discarding. No process for rebirth. We take natural elements, fuse them with synthetic compounds, mass-produce them in factories that bleed energy—and then we throw them in the ground when they no longer serve us. That’s not consumption. That’s contamination.
And it’s not just corporations doing this. It’s all of us. Me too.
I try to keep broken things—to study them, imagine a second life, rework them into art or utility. But the truth is, I don’t have the tools. I don’t have the space. And I definitely don’t have a system. So eventually, my guilt piles up along with the clutter, and I’m forced to surrender it to the waste stream. And every time I do, it hurts. Because I know—deeply know—my house cannot be a landfill.
But if I don’t want my house to become one… why are we okay with Earth becoming one?
That’s why I started this blog.
Not to pretend to be perfect. Not to shame anyone into impossible purity. But to say: I’m trying. I’m thinking about the life of things. I’m looking for second chances—for open box finds, gently used items, things that still have life in them. And I’m sharing them, because maybe someone else can give them that life.
This isn’t about scarcity. This is about sanity. This is about understanding that when something leaves your hands, it doesn't leave the planet.
So what now?
We need a global rehabilitation process for discarded resources. One that doesn’t just bury the problem but reimagines the material. One that considers reincarnation not just for souls—but for toasters. For batteries. For shattered phones and cracked ceramic and every leftover thing that could still be something else.
But until that system exists, I’ll do what I can. And this site—AvailableDiscounts.com—is one small part of that effort. It’s a bridge. Not just to the platforms I sell on, but to a new relationship with the things we buy. Maybe not everything needs to be new. Maybe what’s most radical is what already exists.
And maybe the revolution doesn’t start in a landfill.
Maybe it starts in a living room.
Maybe it starts with us.
