"Forget the lines and the lies that you're never enough / 'Cause you're alive and it's time to get over yourself / We can forget the past to get back on track / That's where we should be / Just memorize in your heart that you're beautiful"

Movanno, the act of speaking...

Is there more to life than reaching with palms outstretced to our fellows? Is there less to it than what we can share amongst ourselves? Am I to be more than the accumilated ideas of myself from all those around me or am i solely to be my own self conception?

My Closet. My Hiding space. A hole in the wall I am in and yet not fully, not hidden in the ways it goes. Do you see the eyes? The Liminal space between all spaces. Will we ever know where our own ends lay?