Building of the Past.

Stepping into the building, I felt nostalgic sorrow, like I'd forgotten this was even here. Bones, Rusted tools, pinned insects, jewels, information pamphlets. They sit on neat thematic displays. It's not like they weren't already gathering dust, they're meant to, to be gazed at for as long as you'd like. Parts of me live there, a rambunctious child seeking the past, a curious teen creating a view of the world. As I walk out I leave another part of me, an adult looking for advice.