There are those filthy eat-in places around here, amid of literally smeared walls and cracked sidewalk pavements. Muddy windows and ripped and faded menus on the walls, steeped floor covered with cheap floor materials. Paper cups everywhere, those people walk with their drinks in their hands. Scattered paper bags and they go running exposing their skins -- the only thing they ever try to keep intact. Cracks and broken mounds that surround their yards and from place to place, there are excellent trees preserved. The graffiti on the mailboxes are regularly removed and the fresh paints illuminates the area just for a while. A poor neighborhood just behind the big shopping malls, scattered gorgeous buildings and among them broken fences and unmowed turfs.
I saw another person yesterday whose leg was deprived of.
The Bostonians used to care more of the buildings and the traces of their views are painfully telling the viewers the messages of that time. Lives after lives, for those passed by then gone, the real human lives, tragedies and comedies. The beautiful brick walls, decorated pillars, balconies, the steps right before the entrances where bright halogen lamps lighten the hallways.
I saw another person yesterday whose leg was deprived of.
The Bostonians used to care more of the buildings and the traces of their views are painfully telling the viewers the messages of that time. Lives after lives, for those passed by then gone, the real human lives, tragedies and comedies. The beautiful brick walls, decorated pillars, balconies, the steps right before the entrances where bright halogen lamps lighten the hallways.