On the City Pattern Project: When We Are Born, Our Souls Are Encased in Ice

23Feb09

In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with old bricks.

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When we are born, our souls are encased in ice.

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At some point, some of this ice might thaw, leaving us exposed in ways both good and bad.

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It would be naive to think that anyone could emerge from this without some damage, although this too might be considered beautiful when viewed in a certain light.

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