Alone, lonely, dispersed, sola, isolated, estranged, departed, emptied, hollowed, alienated...echoes inside a house that was never a home.
There were two rooms, no, three. One was lived in, one uninhabited and the last one was empty. The third one filled with clutter and failures, hopes that never took flight and goals that wilted. This one was cold. Life can't flourish during winter, this room never bloomed. A room attached to the house but navigating on its own.
Boxed inside a body, chained with crippling thoughts. Walking among many and forever pacing alone. Everything moves so fast. Face down, avoid their eyes, move faster, lower your tone, talk less, less! Don't speak at all. Don't smile, never laugh. Don't make eye contact, that's an invitation. The room will be too crowded if there are stares. Winter hates company, it thrives on solitude.
Watch it again. Create their world, recreate their dialogues, dive into their sphere. Turn the volume louder, read the subtitles. Float away from the room and become their space. Erase. Erase. Erase. Leave no trace of the self. Imagine another life, run someone else's dreams. They speak in riddles, walk away. Create a fort. Be locked away. Now there's a sound, a loud silence. Can it be heard?
It's the scream of isolation announcing its stay.