Fascination and Repulsion for the Aesthetics of Abandonment

The hands hold the weight of the entire body, feeling the rough texture of unplastered mortar on its thin membrane. Even with the whole body stretched out against the wall, it still was not possible to see what was behind it. Sweat, in a mixture of adrenaline and heat, ran down his temples, indicating the movement for a final effort, a last impulse before the imminent fall that, for a few seconds, allowed him to overcome the last row. The field of vision was then opened to a fragmented, disconnected and oddly free world. An urban power that allowed itself to be strangled by the breath of tropical vegetation while being consumed by abandonment amidst an active and dynamic city.