I ran into someone I used to know today, he was in my old boyfriends band about a year ago. We were standing together in a big group of people, people we didn't really care much about. We hadn't seen each other in about a year, but we used to be really close. Somehow, we decided it would be cool to drive around aimlessly for lack of anything better to do.

In the car we talked about all kinds of things. We talked about crazy psychotic movies, jim carey, memento, eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, tree's, cactuses, and how the we're just a speck in the music scene. How we think we know so much, how we've got it all figured out but when it comes down to it we don't really know anything. We think we know everything about music until you go to a show and you hear a new sound and realize that you don't know anything at all. That's the basic gist of what we talked about.

Anyway - We drove down highway 1, and we kept passing old abandoned buildings. I looked at one and said, "look at it... it looks like a rib cage."
"Let's go check it out!" He said.

As we got closer to the building, my friend said, "Don't you love it when someone's already broken the fence for you? Life just seems to work out that way."

We parked the car in a pile of mud, and started to trek over to the house.
"This looks like something out of a horror flick," I said, because it really did.

The house seemed to have something built in front of it, it might have been a barn/greenhouse type thing. The actual structure of it was still standing, but it was crumbling before my eyes. The floor was of cracked cement and flowers, but there was still a skeleton of a roof. We hadn't even gone into the actual house yet. We walked in the house, and my friends eyes lighted up and he smiled. "This is the most amazing place I've ever been," he said, as he ran up some cement stairs and exclaimed, "stairs to nowhere!" And he was right. The stairs went high up, and then there was nowhere to go. It almost seemed like the stairs went onto the roof or something. Someone had painted clouds all over the stairs.

The roof was still on the house, but there was a gaping hole in it. Parts of the walls were still there, but there were parts that had fallen apart and there was just wire where the walls should be. There were metal rods and hooks coming down from the ceiling. There were bits and pieces of graffiti... but not gang graffiti, real art. Someone had painted "fight war, not wars" on one wall, and I commented how original that was.

There was a hole going into an attic, but no way to get there. We had a discussion about how it would be a good place to hide dead bodies.

I'm fascinated with finding beauty in ugly things. There is something beautiful in a decaying house, something I can't quite put my finger on. People pass that house every day on the highway, but no one takes the time to look at it, examine it closely. It's like a tree - you know it's there, but you don't think about it. It was there before you were born, and it will be there when you die.

It reminds me of something my friend who just passed away said before she died. "We're just all like matches in the universe, we're lit and then we just flicker out while everything else keeps going."

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