Houses have memories too. They hide them under their windowsills, tuck them in layers of paint and sometimes whisper them to birds passing by. I wonder whose memories these houses will keep. I live here but I am unable to leave a trace. I try to attach myself to the walls, dirty them, mark them… but I fail. They are constantly cleaned, watched, and protected. I caress them instead. And I film them, lest I forget. Home is where the heart is, they say. I disagree. My heart is everywhere. It left with the music. Like a turtle, I am always home.
201519min

Ninnoc

A blonde and blue-eyed girl, Ninnoc, observes the social systems of belonging and popularity at school. She dances, sings, and questions her own identity, displaying a front that ultimately reveals the effects of isolation she actively tries to conceal.

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