My songs know what you did in the dark
I have a deep fondness in my heart for the abandoned places of the world. I'm not entirely sure why, but part of me gravitates towards the broken down and the desolate. It's not an all the time thing, there are times when I see the decay around me as being somewhat tragic. But there are times I see it as poetic. I look at the bits of decay around me as a bit of a time capsule. It doesn't have to be for a very long time. It can only be for a few years, though I of course prefer older ruins. You go wandering through the city and explore for a bit. There are ancient ruins everywhere, spray painted and with broken windows at times but still standing. Even the graffiti tells stories, traces left on them by people who have gone that way in the past. Traces that slowly get worn away by the weather and time til nothing will be left of them. So you watch these modern ruins and see the traces before they are all swept away. Drops of amber frozen in time.
Sometimes it is not even just the decay that is beautiful. You see it a lot in the summer and spring, new life blossoming forth from the ruins of old. Sometimes it gives me a bit of hope to see the tireless way that life springs forth on a very microlevel. Every time I feel like the world will be swallowed by the weight of human waste it gives me a bit of hope to see life overtaking the ruins. Plants crack through concrete floors, collapse ceilings down. You can still smell that there were humans there, but the smell of fumes gets replaced by dirt over time. New life springs forth from the dirt. Life continues, grows, is reborn-the cycle continues.
Sometimes it is not even just the decay that is beautiful. You see it a lot in the summer and spring, new life blossoming forth from the ruins of old. Sometimes it gives me a bit of hope to see the tireless way that life springs forth on a very microlevel. Every time I feel like the world will be swallowed by the weight of human waste it gives me a bit of hope to see life overtaking the ruins. Plants crack through concrete floors, collapse ceilings down. You can still smell that there were humans there, but the smell of fumes gets replaced by dirt over time. New life springs forth from the dirt. Life continues, grows, is reborn-the cycle continues.