so i figured it out! i'm not actually nostalgic at all. i'm crazy. i can't tell the diffrence between the fluttering of my sporadic heart & the sound of all the horrors outside my window. whatever is lurking inside my apartment building's courtyard came from inside my ribcage, one way or another, of that much i think we can assume. i mean, the seeds were layed this morning, weren't they? those yearnings should have read as plain as magnetic north.