Time Stands Still

chernobyl-1806064_1280

 I’ve always had a fascination about abandoned places, buildings, and yes even cars that can be found in the woods with trees growing through them. Rust and peeled paint boldly stare back. Tires rotted and falling off the rims. My main fascination with all this is that they raise questions for me. Who worked or lived there? What were they like? Where did the owner of this car go? What travels did it see? I could ask many other questions.

The biggest fascination I have is Chernobyl. Not just what happened but what it was and the speculations, the people who lived and worked there and the community as a whole. And my main question is:

What was the main purpose of Chernobyl?

A lot of speculation of this ghost town has been raised. Pictures and documentaries have came about that really make one wonder if there was a conspiracy and cover up.

The broken buildings, broken families and the vastness of possibilities are the whole wonder of it all. I ask myself if I could travel and have the choice of destinations where would I go? I would say definitely Chernobyl. Not just because of the movie “Chernobyl Diaries”, although that seriously made me wonder if what was portrayed really occurring, could occur or does someone have an extreme imagination. And no the terror factor of the movie has not swayed me in ever wanting to go there.

Maybe I’m attracted to the lost, forgotten and broken histories that everyone seems to pass by.

 

 

Broken

One thought on “Time Stands Still

  1. Pingback: Enter the space of the auspicious- unspeakable – Nicolas Heartmann

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s