a mine gutted of it's contents

I sat in an empty house, ate a burrito and watch a movie. The Last Kiss. At some point in the movie everyone was in an empty house, by either decisions of others or their own. I identified with them. I remember when I moved out of this house on avenue M, when it was empty of all of it's contents, it felt like I had never been there before. And it felt like I had always been there and belonged nowhere else. That house had a lot of windows. I am beging to think my happiness has a large correlation to the size/amount of windows where I am living.

There were a few arguments among the characters in the movie. And I couldn't help to think about how most of the time no one understands our decisions or motivations for them. We are all there, at one end of the conversation, trying to explain ourselves, knowing that the other person can't/won't understand. And we all end up on the otherside too. If we could just remember what it is like from one side to the other, life would be better.