My Walls

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A writing work inspired by a song my sister likes. It’s a good song, but not everyone is looking for someone who will break their wall. Not all walls are made for the same reason or purpose.

Submitted: March 22, 2019

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Submitted: March 22, 2019

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My Walls

Started: 3 - 22 - 19 10:33 am 

Finished: 3-22-19 2:02 pm

 

Inspired by the song “Break the wall” by Anna Blue

 

You say you’re gonna break my walls. You say you’re gonna tear them down. I admire your determination but it is painfully misguided. Let me explain. First of all, you’re not the one who built the wall. You don’t know why it’s standing or even what it is made of. You don’t know what it hides, what’s on the other side. Why it exists, why I have it in the first place. So before you start swinging that sledgehammer, let me tell you a few things about my wall.

 

There isn’t a brick or stone without a reason. I picked up quite a few of them myself. But there are many that were handed to me. I mixed the grout with my own tears and sweat. I have pushed the boundaries, I have expanded the space. I have installed the windows, I have drilled in the doors. When necessary, I raise it higher, for there are people who wish to scale it. Sometimes I fortify the inside, the wall will not cave so easily!

 

There isn’t a brick or stone without a reason. I picked up quite a few of them myself. But there are many that were handed to me. Each brick is different, some are made of concrete, some are made of solid rock. Each carries a story, a story of how it got there. This one, for example, has been here for years. I learned that not everything can be talked about with everyone. There are people, even friends who judge, gossip and belittle. What conversation is there if the pessimist and optimist battle for dominance? I dream, but even inside my walls I must accept reality. But reality is not always so grim. 

 

This black brick, it is as dark as obsidian and as cold as ice. It represents the pessimism that begs for my hand. But that is why there is a wall. The only mortal that is truly aware of how dark I can be is me. I’d like to keep it that way. And so we find something the wall must hide. I must protect my family and my friends from that side of me. The side that sees no light.

 

Right beside it is that bright brick. It is as bright as a star and as warm as a flame. It represents the optimism that clings to me. That too is something the wall must hide. There is no place for unrealistic happiness. No one my age should be so happy that they ignore the darkness. I know there is much to be happy about. Even with all that can and does go wrong, the sun will still rise, the flowers will still bloom and there is still a degree of innocence. But I cannot allow it to blind me.

 

That is why I laid them side by side. The brightness and darkness balance each other in a wonderful way. It will never be so dark. There will always be something better. But it will never be so bright that I am blinded to reality. The reality is that there are both good and bad for now. 

 

I mixed the grout with my own tears and sweat. So there’s no aspect of my life that isn’t part of this wall. No one is too young for pain, no one is too young to have experience. Granted, I have not experienced as much pain as many, but does that mean I haven’t suffered any pain at all? Life has dropped on my head many bricks. It has dropped them on me since I was a child. Some are heavy and some are light. Not all of them are terribly heavy and not all of them are large. 

 

But it’s the little bricks that hurt the most. The little bricks add the most weight. I have quite a few little bricks in my wall. I didn’t put them there and I cannot remove them. Eventually you learn to get along, you get along with the things that no human can change. Those little bricks are painful, but they add to the wall if placed correctly. I have learned to place them better but I am not perfect.

 

I have pushed the boundaries, I have expanded the space. You seem to think that I hide in the corner of my space. As if I dwell somewhere beneath and between shadows. Even if I did, it would be complex. I do not dwell in a single state of mind. My wall is roofed by the night sky. Within the wall is a garden. My best and most beautiful thoughts fly like moths in the night. I have planted all the flowers I love and they are well watered by a stream. As I learn, grow, love and hate, I push the boundaries forward. There is more than enough space for you...if you enter correctly.

 

I have installed the windows, I have drilled in the doors. The windows are clean, so look inside. Get to know me by observing. I often leave the safety of my walls. Why not approach me gently and we can talk? I will let you peak inside and see a glimpse of the interior? What do you see? Do you like it? I am more than willing to let you in. You can walk around if you show me one thing first. Show me you mean no harm, that you will not belittle what I have built. I am more than willing to open the door to all. I hold no prejudice and no hatred towards anyone. Do not walk in if you haven’t looked in the window. Or else you’ll think this place is bliss.

 

It isn’t. It is painful to live inside the wall. Painful but necessary. Every time I leave I am reminded why I have them. I am not trapped because of the door. I am not a recluse because people are allowed in. But even still I am cautious.

 

When necessary, I raise it higher, for there are people who wish to scale it. Sometimes I fortify the inside, the wall will not cave so easily! I admire the creative ninja who tries to scale the wall. I can watch him no matter how well he hides. He throws down his razor sharp stars. He will get tired as he climbs and when he falls, I will catch him and set him free. Why should I let him get hurt although his intentions were clearly malicious? He has added a brick, so now I will be wary of the silence. Those who are like me, people who watch and wait. 

 

So after all that I just told you, here you come with your wrecking ball. Here you come trying to break my wall. Consider that you won’t get hurt by the falling bricks. You do not know where my structure will cave in on me. If you crush me with your force, what will you accomplish? It’s over kill, overbearing and excessive. I know you mean well, but breaking my wall will do great harm to both of us. 

 

You say you’re gonna beak my walls. You say you’re gonna tear them down. I admire your determination but it is painfully misguided. You’re not the one who built the wall. You don’t know why it’s standing or even what it is made of. You don’t know what it hides, what’s on the other side. You don’t know why it exists, why I have it in the first place. My wall is not impenetrable, there is a door in the center waiting for you. Show me you are caring, kind and real and you’re more than welcome to step inside.


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