things are coming along slowly. a strange new pace for a strange new place. previously the days came at me and were gone before i woke up, and the nights were filled with goings out and drinking and more sleeping. constant company and distractions. sleep doesn't really come anymore. it is only in the early morning (at the time my previous friend, my roommate, would rise) i can sleep for a short while. in my dreams i wish to wake to find a life in the boxes and the piles of clothes that once cocooned me. but when i awake they only taunt. they dare me to miss the people connected with all of them. the connections are all imaginary, of course. most of the objects never came near to the people i associate with them. a lot of the people were never even near me. so the boxes just stare at me, smirking, laughing at my foolishness. they wait to be addressed and i wait for a life to develop here that will shield me from their memories.
there might be a ghost here. one seperate from my own.
12 days in. 13 days gone.