it's a cute little apartment but it's an emotional vortex. once it's gone there's no going back. there's been no going back for a long time, since i left, and the dust continues to accumulate. i may go back in mind, but the vortex of matter won't exist. i think it came to be a museum of inertia that i accumulated almost unconsciously, and that seemed to accumulate of its own obscure will around me.