It’s kind of a pastoral scene. Air feels comfy warm, the ascending summer sun lights a dunghill, and turns out it’s an apartment.
Pansies all over, a pig sleeping calmly, Dostoevsky’s Idiot, Mann’s Joseph and Mark Fisher’s K-Punk on the drawer, Hugo’s Toilers of the Sea on the ground, a phone on the unmade bed and a lamp to light the night (has to be battery-driven).
This is a place and way to live among sky-high real estate prices, gutted out ideals and a badly beaten ecosystem. Wonderful.