I believe humans are a weird species. My last post dealt with the very weirdities oflife that make us human. This post is the second in the weird human species series.
I walk on my terrace every day, sometimes with my family and but mostly alone with myself. There is this house, visible from my terrace, thatseems to have lodged itself firmly in my field of sight. Throughouttheperiod of my walk, it sits comfortably in my peripheralvision as though it is that guest each person longs to host followed by a sense of repentance and an even bigger longing to see this guest finally leave. It ended up infecting my thought pattern with unsettled impressions about isolatedness.
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