An old nightstand you recently splurged on inhabits the space to the right of your bed. A predictable collection of daily items have been placed within reach under your lamp. The next level of the nightstand is a drawer containing items more precious - a folder at the bottom wraps your social security card and birth certificate together neatly. A polaroid camera and photo album lay on top of the folder. Next to the album rests a sticker covered journal, half-full and beaten to absolute shit. A bag of pens lay next to it. Perhaps the nostalgia of all the items touched during your move is tugging at your edges, but you fight the urge to stop your momentum and thumb through the journal and photo album. Once your life is no longer in boxes, you can slide under your covers and revisit these texts and images at a leisurely pace, letting any other prying eyes in the room get insight into the life of the person inhabiting the space now.