I stood staring at this building for the longest time.
Last week, while I was waiting on some friends to see the Steve McCurry exhibition, I took a walk around the area. I turned into a little alley and was instantly smacked in the face with the smell of sizzling food. It was lunch time.
As I was sauntering down the street, I came across this building. I couldn't stop staring at it. I kept wishing that the contemporary structure behind it would somehow vanish. Apparently this little building had burned a while ago. There were pictures of protests that happened in front of it.
Something about dingy old buildings really gets to me. So much history etched into it's rough exterior. It once was a new building, with a layer of silky paint. Life existed inside, but now, only exists around and beside it. It's just waiting, waiting to be erased from history. Why does that make me sad? I need to go to bed.