I try to explore this closed corner by looking through it, and once again, I turn to reflection to find traces of this hidden space—the temporary image cast on the screen of a broken television. But this image disturbs me; a disturbance like a trick of memory. It’s as if I’m watching the process of a fading memory that once brought me joy every time I recalled it—a memory I used to remember until recently but now its images have been wiped from my mind, leaving only a ghost in my recollection. On the other hand it reminds me of moments when I forget what I wanted to say and lose all clues to the excitement I once felt trying to express it. A troubling sense of failure consumes my entire mind.