PIT STAINS AND SATIN SHEETS

As soon as I become comfortable or start to define the world, or my living world as I would only know, it immediately gets redefined and shattered all over the place. It is strange to me that I can imagine myself living anywhere. The faint figures who could be new friends or colleagues appear and shift around like hitting the shuffle switch on a playlist. Few times I stop thinking and gaze backwards to the fringed-gray space where my past is tucked away. It resembles a tunnel, becoming more small compacted as I travel further back. College seems so minuscule, only made long by the illusion of time.  Already as I type this I can see the hallways I have learned to muscle memory through the walls; but they feel from another time now. The next bigger thing will become the next smaler thing eventually. It might be the brain's way of housekeeping, or simply a part of growing into new things.