Walls are widely attributed with having ears, and being able to talk. But who ever said they had eyes?
Being a wall must be hard, if you’ll forgive the pun. Hearing things but not necessarily being able to understand them; being bumped, leaned on, and even drilled into sometimes; having your backside in a snowdrift and a burning hot radiator on your front. I’d imagine it’s enough to drive one a little potty and wouldn’t be surprised if most were suffering serious paranoia issues.
Walls in different houses will have different concerns, also. There could be the upper-class walls, always well painted and maintained. Very proud and elitist.
“Excuse me, can you restrain those small humans. I can feel sticky jam on my best skirting.”
“Darling, a corner of my wallpaper is peeling! I’m in such a state!”
“Oh no, not decorating again… I’m still aching from the fillings they gave me last year when the shelf was taken down.”
Less cared-for walls would be more survivalist, or at least more rough and ready.
“Ouch, my bricks! I think I’ve cracked something!”
“These cobwebs tickle like a bugger.”
“I remember the last time I was painted, it was back in the summer of 1992.”
So although it may be glamorous to assume that every other species and inanimate object is fixated on what us humans are up to, it’s probably more sensible to think that their paramount concern and topic of discussion is their own welfare.