this shot was such a punch to the gut. the dozens of notes that have accumulated over the years, so many yet entirely insufficient. all the sign language posters on the wall, guides heart used to teach himself a language no one else in his family bothered to learn. his walls are screaming with it, his desperate need for connection, but his parents don’t see it. how could they, when they don’t even come into his room? they willfully ignore heart’s pleas, choosing to slip another flimsy, impersonal note under his door each night instead.
