13 // video
[The Dreamberry turns on just as Vanessa falls back into a large armchair near a fireplace, slamming it with a loud thunk onto a side table as she settles in. She's only halfway in the view of the camera at that angle; it's mostly pointed towards the fire and a vase of yellow carnations. For those who understand Victorian flower language, it's typically a flower used to represent rejection or disdain.
Though in this case, even if one doesn't know what it means, the atmosphere that she gives off speaks of nothing but disdain.
Her left shoe is kicked off (a little too violently) so that she can rub at her ankle.]
Forced to be nice, forced to smile at idiots! If it's not by the force of this ridiculous place, it's by force of superiors in the workplace. How can a person be expected to be happy in their existence if they're not permitted to speak with their honest feelings?! Or speak at all sometimes?
[The other shoe is removed and thrown across the floor.]
As if it isn't bad enough that the world is given a glimpse of our private dreams and traps us in sleep - we're supposed to be grateful for all of this? Next it'll probably take away the sun and tell us to thank it for the comfortable darkness.
[A flustered sigh and she slumps back into the chair, turning to look towards the vase. If you look closely, in the middle of all of the yellow, there's a single pink carnation. A symbol of a woman's love.]
I refuse to thank them for it. Ever.
[The Dreamberry is then turned off, just as it's also being thrown to the floor.]
Though in this case, even if one doesn't know what it means, the atmosphere that she gives off speaks of nothing but disdain.
Her left shoe is kicked off (a little too violently) so that she can rub at her ankle.]
Forced to be nice, forced to smile at idiots! If it's not by the force of this ridiculous place, it's by force of superiors in the workplace. How can a person be expected to be happy in their existence if they're not permitted to speak with their honest feelings?! Or speak at all sometimes?
[The other shoe is removed and thrown across the floor.]
As if it isn't bad enough that the world is given a glimpse of our private dreams and traps us in sleep - we're supposed to be grateful for all of this? Next it'll probably take away the sun and tell us to thank it for the comfortable darkness.
[A flustered sigh and she slumps back into the chair, turning to look towards the vase. If you look closely, in the middle of all of the yellow, there's a single pink carnation. A symbol of a woman's love.]
I refuse to thank them for it. Ever.
[The Dreamberry is then turned off, just as it's also being thrown to the floor.]