oh i was thinking how pictures come and go and how it seems i am the ghost sometimes playing on the machine a ghost tune to summon up the pictures where they wander in the machine. i lost a hard briefcase full of negatives i think so. only the machines change. the pictures no longer do, they just wander and evanesce no different than people on the inside and out. i had thought before i was playing tag with the ghost, with the ghosts, inside the machine, i think of it again when i can't find my pictures within, how i am ghosted, looking for ghost images the ghost in the machine secrets away. i find other ones i had forgotten, ghost offerings. 

and now i must go. i see a soft peach pink light in the west. a light blinking. i go to wake the dog of dreams.