Needless to say, after that kind of success in a place like Terrence, it didn’t take me long to come back. Christmas must have come early this year, letting me into a building I’d wanted for so many years, and without any chance of getting caught.
Even the ceiling fans have given up…
The graffiti in here isn’t great, but at least they try to be clever.
Every level has its own color. Almost as if different psychiatric conditions might benefit from being surrounded by one particular shade for months at a time. Notably absent: institutional green.
…maybe just because it got painted over.
Caged birds are an odd symbolism on an asylum wall. Who knows why the caged bird sings?
Weirdly enough, the water damage increases from top to bottom through the building.
Inspiring to some — I’ve always found better results by aiming lower and lower until I don’t – can’t – miss. Lofty goals make long falls.
This should be on the stairwell to the roof.
Something is missing here. Somehow, the autopsy table got taken out.
Here’s a little clue if any of you would like to go. I saw this on my way out.
And we even made it through Hell’s Hundred Meters. Without so much as seeing one cop or security guard…