[~glitch me daddy eight to the bit\] Opening a box that’s been shipped to you from the other side of another country and finding it full of objects from your childhood– Objects that made up your immediate world as far back as forty years ago and were part of your day-to-day for years, that you haven't seen for years. And now they are with you again far outside of their initial context. How do you express the meaning of these things when meanings were never defined in words because these objects were with you before you had full grasp of language? Are things only really valuable if you can condemn them to be recreated inside a mesh of language? Then, even then, neither the language nor the things gain much value because they are mine. And what am I? What authority backs my words to give them weight and validation that would convince anyone else agree to give them greater value? Nostalgia has been a hot word these days, but I do not long for my past. Nostalg...