at home

my walls are empty and a minty green color. my canvas of old polaroids leans in the corner on the floor. my old ticket stubs are yellowed (making death cab look ages old). i'm sleeping with white sheets and my old duck blanket. in my closet hang only the clothes i brought with me from seattle. i've so many literal and not-so-literal blank canvases in my possession right now. i've got so many ideas in my head right now. i've got exactly what i need, once again.