Exploring the domain of old bundles and armoires reveals a warm and white aroma arising as the sign and seal of the battle between humans and Time. And as Time passes by the myriad of moths, termites, and the flow of the history itself, disassemble and chew all our memories to waste. That smelly white thing between your sheets may slow down the decay, and thus calm down the maelstrom of Time above your stuff even if for a little whi1le.

Now think of our skulls as an old box and let the smelly milky extract be our brains. Opening this box, too, reveals the familiar scent along with those little white balls scattering and rolling out of each and every corner of our heads.

Yet there's something more about it. Naphthalene comes from charcoal - crude oil's cousin, that zipped history of the Earth, the hardened product of the oldest woods under 400 million years of pressure and heat hidden in the deepest depths of the planet - and unlike its calm and white presence the vapour proves exteremly flamable.
We live in this interval: between forming charcoal layers and sublimation of the white balls hidden in the old bundles and clothes. And a lot of things happen in this interval: those things coming back from the darkness of the charcoal to the dimness of the inner depths of the Earth.