I have seen a universe outside my consciousness for quite some time. And it is a timely reminder of my existence across these just as much as my current one. Am I older, wiser? I shall not ascribe. Poorer, certainly.
Previously I have dawned upon a supposition that maybe, nowhere is home. But home, as I learned, is as much a product of one's attitudes, of one's willingness to fit in rather than a willful resignation.
I have lost any sense of articulation, you see. And I end up saying things which make little sense to me, even now. But worn out I am, at last, and I could wish for little else besides for time to pass me by, until it's time for me to come home.
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