Ever punch a wall in frustration? I have. The wall wins, every time. Walls do what they are supposed to do, which is, stand there, holding up roofs. They are inanimate, and are designed to stay put for a long time. They get decorated, painted, and sometimes patched up, but mostly they are just the things around us, closing us off from the world.
If walls could speak… Well, they can’t. Neither can the flies on them. Walls don’t have very good problem-solving skills. They may whisper ‘punch me… kick me… bash your forehead against me…’ in the middle of a stressful time, but usually they maintain a stony silence- much the same as you will if you chose the Glasgow Kiss option. (Alright! A GK is a headbutt).
Walls don’t move, but they can close in on you. If you are sick, immobile, or depressed, they can crush you like the garbage compactor in Star Wars. They can be sinister sentries, utterly still, but menacing in that stillness.
Walls can be beautiful. Or run-down. Walls can enclose a loving family, or conceal a criminal. Walls can smother the screams of the abused, or echo the laughter at a family gathering. Walls are best with windows in them, so that light can enter, and darkness escape. Walls keep summer out and winter in.
Walls surround birth, and enclose death.
Cheerful, eh? Guess I have a little cabin fever after solo-parenting for nine weeks. I’m hoping to go for a long walk tomorrow, the only walls being the ones in my head, which will be pummelled with the mallet of relaxation, until I can see the sun streaming through the clouds again.
Nine days till Neen returns.
If walls could speak… Well, they can’t. Neither can the flies on them. Walls don’t have very good problem-solving skills. They may whisper ‘punch me… kick me… bash your forehead against me…’ in the middle of a stressful time, but usually they maintain a stony silence- much the same as you will if you chose the Glasgow Kiss option. (Alright! A GK is a headbutt).
Walls don’t move, but they can close in on you. If you are sick, immobile, or depressed, they can crush you like the garbage compactor in Star Wars. They can be sinister sentries, utterly still, but menacing in that stillness.
Walls can be beautiful. Or run-down. Walls can enclose a loving family, or conceal a criminal. Walls can smother the screams of the abused, or echo the laughter at a family gathering. Walls are best with windows in them, so that light can enter, and darkness escape. Walls keep summer out and winter in.
Walls surround birth, and enclose death.
Cheerful, eh? Guess I have a little cabin fever after solo-parenting for nine weeks. I’m hoping to go for a long walk tomorrow, the only walls being the ones in my head, which will be pummelled with the mallet of relaxation, until I can see the sun streaming through the clouds again.
Nine days till Neen returns.
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