oh, the folly of a box opened, and the deluge of sensation, and the sharp sense of recall. it's funny, funny funny funny funny, travel, photographs of travel: "I wasn't there, then I was there, and now I am not there."

later the sense of wind in this impending storm tonight will tug forth this sense of recollection, nostalgia. good night. there's something I'm missing. there's something I need to say lately on the tip of my tongue but I don't know what exactly I could say, or to whom I could say it to, and so I've been walking home on darkened brooklyn streets with dim streetlights, thinking to myself underneath my breath, music plugged in one ear as a companion, saying things with phrases like "listen, me". and then I reach home, unlock my front door, say hi to casper, lift myself up into my bed, close my eyes. slide sideways, smile wryly.