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This building gave me a sad feeling, but a good kind of sadness. It is my love of empty spaces, of the peaceful smile one
has walking vacant corridors.
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An island of lost souls, disconnected yet modern, like finding a phonograph in the desert.
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In emptiness, life. The Dylan Building in Detroit, where every window has been painted by grafitti artists.
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Cadillac Hotel in her prime, pristine, virginal, sacred. Today, empty, abandoned. The only occupants are the ghosts of the
past, flickering in our minds.
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