Abandoned Factory near a Quarry
There's a part of me that knows what I'm doing is "wrong." It's not a feeling, it's not a voice in my head, it's not even a twinge of guilt, this concept of "wrong" is completely removed from me. It's like a dictionary definition. I come up with a concept for what I'm doing, "breaking and entering," and I flip through the pages to find a meaning for this, and the word that faces me goes W-R-O-N-G. It's about five letters long with a short "o" sound. This is how removed I am from this concept.
More importantly, my heart is racing because my husband is picking me up in 20 minutes. That means I've got 20 minutes to take pictures and explore. From the second I'm through the hole in the fence, I've already planned out exactly how I'm going to divide up the time. Five minutes over by those giant cylinders, five minutes around the back of the smoke stack, five minutes wandering under the giant frame of whatever building used to be there, but first of all five minutes surveying the entire area.
I'm on a high.
It's like sky diving out of a helicopter. You're thinking as you go up, "Why am I doing this? Can I really survive? What if there's a problem with my parachute?" And then you jump and it's just so incredible. The whole world is yours and no one is dictating anything. You're taking your survival into your own hands. And you can do anything! Spin around, sing your favorite song, feel any emotion you like! All in this beautiful, intriguing, out-of-this-world scenery. I feel like I'm Columbus. I've discovered a new world and with little thought to whom this land belongs to, my blood rages with the desire to explore it and claim it as my own. The ground rushes up toward me along with the consequences that may arise once I'm off my high, but it seems so small and removed from me down there that I can't think about it seriously.
Even when my husband's voice bellows out darkly, echoing over the deserted landscape, "Jennifer we have to leave NOW," all I can think sanely within the parameters of language is, "Fuck yeah I got some awesome pics!" Then there's some guy staring at me saying something interspersed with the word "penalty" and my breif escape to paradise is over.
Did I do something wrong?