He had wanted to take a bus (perhaps even several) out of the city to a flea market specializing in antique, collectible postcards...
"Chronicles of the Cetian System - year 3475 - day 687 - Document XXXZ6873984..."
Glimpsing the occupation of the New School in December 2008 alongside its September 2010 reenactment at Brown University.
He has manic-hope-vision and sees only good news: Pure Liquid Gold. He sees right past the warning: tea tree oil can be fatel [sic] if ingested.
Hope is homeless in the everyday. Its abode resides in fantasy and daydream. The destiny of the hopeful lies precariously between a "fools gold" and delusion.
"Give me your tired, your poor, / Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, / The wretched refuse of your teeming shore..."