Out and about for another photo walk this one time, boys will be boys they say. Poking at dead rats with sticks, it's the only thing to keep one amused. The grunginess burning through like the sun trying to make it's way though the clouds except these rays reek of desolation and forlorn, leaving you stranded alone on an island of your own personal doubts and anxieties. Welcome to industry city, population: you.