Viciously snarls a dog, locked and seemingly abandoned within a house that oddly looks roughly lived in, though, not necessarily abandoned itself.

Approaching said house, over yonder, happens to be that exact same dog; you greet the residence over what’s seemingly the course of a few days -at least- doing so, first thing, everytime you wake.

Each time, from what I remember, the dog becoming much more meaner, and even more so menacing looking; the house–even its surroundings, beginning to take on a much more haunting appearance, just the same.

Visually, it all has a sort of sinister stop motion feel to it all.

Very entrancing.

So profoundly captivating, but downright frightening; one feels the irresistible urge for their gaze to linger upon all the aforementioned, while simultaneously pleading for the ability to look away.

Then there’s the apartment mall.

An ongoing labyrinth of liminal living and shopping spaces. Car parks zigging and zagging as the accompanying, borders all of such; escalators folding infinitely into the upper floors.

Such gargantuan spaces which holds all of whatever fucks your desires. Stroking materialistic as well as a wet and messy nostalgic.

Here, all over again.

And what for?

What provokes such a reccurence?

And why, all but the haze of fluorescent lights, is it always so dark here?