I’m in my late 30s and I still sleep with the teddy bear I’ve had since I was born. I moved into this apartment almost four years ago and never repainted the terrible yellow walls of my bedroom; and the only things I’ve hung on them are one small painting, a ticket stub from a concert that I’ve forgotten going to, and a stack of single page calendars (2010, 2011, 2012, 2013). Not visible are the piles of half-unpacked boxes that I’m still living among. Also thankfully not visible: my psoriasis, my bank account balance, my social anxiety.
(cf: This outtake where the camera went off unexpectedly.)