an idea of love pushed onto sand and in the mold left behind this is what love is, a puzzle piece into imprint love then, is like a completed project one can buy at target; imprint it onto yourself; acceptance through this lens. and there’s a push for acceptance, normalization but in our yearning, do we realize the cost? in reaching, absorption and a heavy loss (i think); shallowness.

in which i find disillusionment from this; but also a sadness. conditioned to long; yearn; daydream coveting. but spaces designed are fashioned in such a narrow way for an outsider; transactional but still, you are hungry and there are crumbs left. isn’t that sad? designed to establish cycles, spiraling. in love, in love, in love,

don’t you think homes are interesting? the way they are limitless and limited. often, i think about how homes are children, joyfully and maddening. in certain homes, there is a sadness in the air and i think about this. how does one heal a home? 

my sister recently bought a home (beautiful) and a lot of talk about it being an old home,  a beautiful space (true, i admit). when she moved in though, the home bended/folded. is there a difference between a home and a house?  i guess that question is too similar to is there a difference between childhood and adulthood?  accommodation designed into being.