milford, massachusetts. 12.08
i took this picture out the window of my car, killing the end of the roll before the trip that took the last two weeks. i'm finally back home and i've been greeted with a night of old friends in a dimly lit room, and a foot of snow, and food poisoning. i'm homebound now. my father is shoveling the stairs and it sounds like an avalanche.
i have no idea what to feel homesick towards anymore. i miss the morning light through my window in the city and waking up to find that i kicked my windowsill herbs in the night, and the room smells like peppermint; i miss having fewer things around me. my room here has become a depot, sedimentary rock of my entire life. i've never not lived in this room. there is dust from me that is as old as me. there are books older than me. i found a notebook today that chronicled my thoughts when my hamster died; each letter is an inch tall and the paper is wrinkled by kid-tears.
the pilgrimage south was more than i could have ever imagined it to be. expect photos soon, as soon as i can leave the house to get some film processed. but two things:
1. i love america
2. america makes me love massachusetts so much more.
back soon. my sickness is channeling the weather gods and keeping me inside.
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