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"Maybe I am not very human - what I wanted to do was to paint sunlight on the side of a house. There is a sort of elation about sunlight on the upper part of a house. Though I may influence genius, the only real influence I've ever had was myself. No amount of skilful invention can replace the essential element of imagination. Well, I've always been interested in approaching a big city in a train, and I can't exactly describe the sensations, but they're entirely human and perhaps have nothing to do with aesthetics. ” ~~ Edward Hopper~~ You dare not enter my portrait, as that train to the city is on its way. The track that lays before me acts as a warning for you to obey. Most of my blinds I keep closed or almost fully drawn. Travelers try to peek inside, which makes my occupants forlorn. I was once a stately Victorian mansion, entertaining dignitaries galore. I long for those times again, to be revered as a landmark of note once more. Casting dark shadows, the sun still beams upon my walls that need a paint. Trying not to be affected by the vibrations of the locomotive, I practice restraint. There is a glumness that casts a veil. It is impossible to see the real me. My sad persona hides dark secrets, that the bright sun cant send to purgatory. As the approaching train roars past me with no thought of halting the ride. In distaste my contents shaking as my foundations quiver from inside. Does horror lurk within? My architecture is an inspiration for a famous story. A genius called Hitchcock used me to inspire the house in Psycho with all its glory. I have no love of nature the weather has reaped its toll upon my wretched form. I stand here as a beacon, I have no choice beside this railroad track, slowly I disform. Perhaps I merely wait for a full restoration date. For a master of the brush to reinvent me to my primordial state.
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