Abandoned America
The important thing about finding beauty in ruins isn't showing off where you've been or what a daredevil you are. It's not about being cool, to me at least.
It's the tacit acknowledgement that "functional" isn't the only normal state, that normalcy is in fact itself an illusion. Places are scarred by what they endure. So are people.
They are still worthy of love. Forgotten, silent, unacknowledged though they may be. Even with the scars, perhaps because of them. We still deserve understanding
Abandoned America
There's a peace that comes in letting go of the internalized stigma of age, illness, and perceived weakness. I won't pretend I've completed that journey, but abandoned places are where I've always gone to attempt to make progress with it. Perhaps if they have value, I reason, so do I. And maybe someone else who can't get there in person can find hope there too.
Maybe in the loneliest places we can feel less alone. Because it's not just you. Your struggles are shared. We all ache in some way.
Abandoned America
We place such a premium on adhering to social norms that many of us who can never meet them hate ourselves for it. Those norms revolve around production of goods, services, the mirage of profitability. We try so hard to meet that standard even though the reality is that it is sometimes impossible.
The love of ruins requires the acceptance that this is *not* always possible, and that is okay. Pain, loss, and failure are part of life. If you're hurting, you're not the only one.
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