Abandoned Zones

A little something about me, for those that are interested… Some of you may have gathered that I love mystery- in books, movies, and also in life- and I wanted to share one phenomenon in this world that really captivates me. Simply put, I love abandoned zones.

I have had a few people question me when I express my interest for abandoned zones, and maybe it is a little odd, but I tend see beauty in things that are otherwise less than perfect. There is something intriguing about the unknown, and when you look upon a ruin- a place long since abandoned- there is an unspoken story that tantalizes me, a lingering presence I wish to know more about. What makes those places incredible to me is a combination of awe for nature’s ability to [adapt] shape itself in and around human obstruction as well as the immeasurable amount of wonder I feel looking upon a fragment of history- no matter its significance- left to decay. For some reason or another, there is cause to move on and leave the past behind, but why would we abandon that which we’ve invested so much time, effort and currency? The possibilities are endless. Perhaps resources ran dry or natural disaster forced the population to seek refuge elsewhere and after a long period the new establishment proved to be more valuable. It is possible that conflict was the driving force behind the abandonment of an old city; our worlds history of war and genocide across the centuries has detached families from each other, and whole populations from their roots.

Knowing why a place was abandoned is not always completely satisfying. My mind stirs with questions about the individuals who once resided there; every life has something to share, an experience unique to themselves, and I am bewitched by the prospect of what we could learn from that. The complexity of this existence is beyond me, but I am content with the knowledge that there will always be something more to contemplate, explore and grow from.

Maybe it is the writer in me, so utterly fascinated by stories unspoken for, or perhaps it’s simply that I am able connect to abandoned zones in a spiritual/metaphorical sense. In the way that we [humans] abandon places and things- leaving those echoes of the past to be swallowed by time- there are junctures when we also abandon pieces of ourselves and those remnants, despite having been lost or forgotten, become something beautiful behind closed doors. The doors we close may or may not ever be opened to us again, but whether its an individual returning to a closed door or another individual opening it for the first time, what was there before is not the same as it once was, because time, experience, and perspective are always re-shaping the boundaries of our scope. 

 

 

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