Dying Houses
Houses are living, just like people.
Not being buried on time, they start to rotten.
Then they attract a lot of life to them: homeless animals, poor guys, bored children, and especially urban explorers.
Men drink booze inside. Some others look for valuables and metal stuff to sell for cheap.
Animals find their home under a roof. Mice and rats burrow their holes in a relatively safe and warm place.
Birdies make nests in between planks.
Homeless dogs discover a good shelter underground.
Kids love to play inside abandoned buildings, since their parents do not have money for a movie theater, and there is no entertainment around. Just ugly and broken reality.
When the houses are dead, they inspire and feed others.
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These photos and prose are my own. Copyright (C) 2022 Valerian Kadyshev.
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I have always felt sadness and nostalgia for lonely houses. So many things are lived in them that have thousands of memories. And when they are left alone it is as if everything is in a kind of pause in time. Maybe I am a little sensitive about the subject of single houses. A few weeks ago they sold my grandmother's house, where I have many memories with my father. Single houses hold the treasure of memories. But these memories, sometimes it is better to have them only in our mind, to avoid clinging to material things. At the end of the day, only that one remains, and that is the only one we have left.