Waxing Nostalgic

Between The Hollow Men
and Jack Torrence
(near the opening Alien egg)
rests the reason I continue.

That isn’t to say that the things I’ve loved
have shaped me
for better or worse.
But I am reminded of them
every time I reach to find
something that might be
more than myself.
They rest on shelves in my mind
like trophies
or scrapbooks
that chronicle the
‘what became of me’
whenever I get an overwhelming interest
to look back
and wax nostalgic.

This part of me
self-described as the materialistic
and sensory
is a collector
obsessed with acquiring
the work of a great many
and inventors
it has catalogued things into bins
and glass cases marked:
(among other things)
Favorite Characters
and Orks.

I travel here constantly
when discovering.
For me it’s the oversized X
at the end of some dotted line
on an imaginary map I’ve
tattooed over the back of my hand
as though one day
in reality
I’ll be able to visit
in earnest.


There is no image associated with this because nothing I could find was appropriate. It seems getting too specific (in my own thinking) made associating my thoughts with any specific image disappointing.

Thanks for reading along to all of you that do. I appreciate you all.




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