If you find yourself in bed, crying now
No room to breathe
Know that pictures of your seemingly mundane life will soon make sense in the context of pictures of your future travels
You will look back at it all
Just when you think you're being complacent
Just when you think you are stuck
Songs of melancholy will turn into songs of depth
Perspective will rise from routine

You will see these photographs that are now melancholy, mundane, just evidence that you are stuck
You will see them in black and white and sepia
These, that seem so common place to you now
As they age, these will increase in value
And you will treasure their cracks and folded over corners