About Veranda

I picked Veranda as a name for several reasons. It describes a way of being in the world, a praxis of almost and approximation. Veranda is about hovering on the edge of things, about being near but never inside, about the charm of the peripheral. It involves embracing inconsistency or, more specifically, eliminating the craving for consistency. It refers to the feeling of being excluded, not just as a child. Veranda, as a concept and a feeling, is about being amorphous, deficient, and sphinx-like. Yet it is also about the feeling of being sheltered on a rainy day or being outside without feeling agoraphobic.

Veranda may not have as many meanings as I attribute to it, but to me it is a void-like word that serves as a repository for my most intense emotions and ideas. It is an empty concept that connects the patterns I observe within the chaos of my inner world to the patterns that exist in reality. Despite this, it maintains its charm and continues to expand without ever losing its allure.

Or it just means friendzone idk.