A corner is a junction between two ways, either horizontally or vertically aligned, with or without other corners.
When passive in cornered space our eyes become over-tired to the spiralling rhythm, of travelling from corner to corner and sensing corners (where we stop and register two ways).
Our eyes will dart either way when they meet a corner, and we get used to the rhythm of cornered off space.
We are always reading leftward or rightward when presented with a corner, because that is what is perceived either sub-optically or normally.
When in a house, subliminally, and normally, we register corners, and are deluded by logic of corners, lost in a spiralling rhythm.
Word is a virus born of cornered off life that makes us read one way, and in a reality of cornered space, our thoughts are spinning, because of our held-down agility.