Yeah, I think it's about an existential crises caused by societal and social influence.
I sense some oppression here. She's not too enthusiastic about seeing the town ("I guess it couldn't hurt..."), and her first observation is a man being arrested. And then she's dealing with pressure from the realtor and her partner.
So, she's standing in the house, realizing the passage of time and how this is where someone else's life took place. A life I'm sure was very meaningful to them, but means nothing to her. And the realtor doesn't give a shit--They just want to sell the house, and they'll push any benefit to potential buyers. ("It's cheap because of the whole deceased thing... But! Look at the ceilings! Look at the lovely garden! Don't have two cars? No problem! You can still make use of it! No? Don't like it? Well, you can always tear it all down...")
And she is just like, "What is the point of saving all this money to buy a house that you'll spend your life paying off just so you can die and someone else can profit off of it?"
Up to this point all of the outside forces were guiding her along, and she's just going with it and it's really starting to get depressing.
So, instead of worrying about meaningless details like the location of a door like most people would, she's having profound, albeit depressing thoughts.
I think the takeaway here is that if you let other people decide what's best for you, what you need, and what you desire, you're sacrificing what it means to think for yourself. You're buying into a dream and a lie, and the needless suffering could've been avoided if you had just stopped and listened to yourself
Yeah, I think it's about an existential crises caused by societal and social influence.
I sense some oppression here. She's not too enthusiastic about seeing the town ("I guess it couldn't hurt..."), and her first observation is a man being arrested. And then she's dealing with pressure from the realtor and her partner.
So, she's standing in the house, realizing the passage of time and how this is where someone else's life took place. A life I'm sure was very meaningful to them, but means nothing to her. And the realtor doesn't give a shit--They just want to sell the house, and they'll push any benefit to potential buyers. ("It's cheap because of the whole deceased thing... But! Look at the ceilings! Look at the lovely garden! Don't have two cars? No problem! You can still make use of it! No? Don't like it? Well, you can always tear it all down...")
And she is just like, "What is the point of saving all this money to buy a house that you'll spend your life paying off just so you can die and someone else can profit off of it?"
Up to this point all of the outside forces were guiding her along, and she's just going with it and it's really starting to get depressing.
So, instead of worrying about meaningless details like the location of a door like most people would, she's having profound, albeit depressing thoughts.
I think the takeaway here is that if you let other people decide what's best for you, what you need, and what you desire, you're sacrificing what it means to think for yourself. You're buying into a dream and a lie, and the needless suffering could've been avoided if you had just stopped and listened to yourself