Walls Part I

I did a simple google search.

“What is the purpose of walls?”

I came up with the following result:

 

Q: What is the purpose of walls? It can be seen as an obstacle. Why do we build them, again?

A: Control. With a wall you can control many things, like inside climate control (temperature, humidity, speed of the air, materials in suspension, etc), you can restrict the movement of animals (keep out the tigers) as well as persons.
Control is not undesirable. 

I’ve been doing a lot of talking about walls. Last blog post, I talked about a brick wall, and how I had run in to one. I talked about how brick walls are there for us to climb over, run through, break down.

This post is somewhat along that same vein.

Please bear with me – this post is going to be written mostly through metaphor. I’m going to create a visualization that I’ve been having over the past few weeks. If you don’t understand it, please try. If you still can’t, I’m sorry but it’s near impossible for me to describe this in any other way.

I’ve titled it Walls Part I because I hope at some point to return to this topic with a different outlook. Something brighter – a resolution, possibly.

I’ve realized that this brick wall I’ve run in to may be my own creation. For years, I’ve been busy building them. Walls and facades with strategically placed windows that peek in to perfectly staged spaces immortalized in time through my Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook feeds.

I decided a long time ago that I wanted my life to look a certain way. I wanted to break through stereotypes and destroy the cookie cutter ideas of what I was supposed to be and what my life was supposed to look like. I built a world around me. Over time, things have changed. Buildings and monuments I created for myself have been torn down and reconstructed into different things as my beliefs, morals, and standards have shifted.

Some people have been granted access to the inside of these walls. They’ve been allowed to walk around and peer through the windows into those perfectly staged rooms. Others have even unlocked doors, opened closets, dug around and found some of the things I thought I had swept into a corner forever. Some of these people did it with permission and coaxing, much like when you’re luring a dirty, scared stray from its hiding spot. Others used brute force, kicking through doors and plowing over roadblocks and barriers.

But like most worlds, this one has layers. While the streets on the outer layer are nice and clean, and the buildings have some grime that are visible with a little exploring, the upkeep is phenomenal. However, the further you go, the dirtier it gets.

The inner city is full of a lot of ugly stuff. Things I’ve hidden behind even higher walls.

Corruption. Secrets. Pollution. Hunger. Struggle. Fear.

This area is constantly consumed by floods of insecurity and tornados of anxiety that rip through and tear the place apart. Droughts of loneliness settle in and make the place arid, the air hard to breathe. Most of the time, I live in this place alone. I try to repair and rebuild on my own. Often, this is futile.

Today, I looked at a picture from a year ago and thought, “Wow, I don’t know any of those people any more.”

That’s why the walls that guard this inner place are built so high and reinforced in steel and blood, concrete and bone. I don’t trust that if I let people in this place, that they’ll stay. Most of them haven’t even stuck around and all they’ve seen is the facades.

I hope that soon I can start to work on demolishing these walls. Brick by brick, stone by stone, with the help of others, I can open the gates and let the things that live here run free and bask in the light of love and healing that shines through the outer parts of this world I’ve constructed. They deserve that as much as the perfectly staged rooms.

I hope that the period of me looking back at photos from a year ago and saying, “I don’t know those people any more” is coming to an end.

Today was not a good day for me. The storms ravaged those inner walls. I’ve been holding a lot of things in.

Here’s to opening the gates someday.

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2 thoughts on “Walls Part I

  1. Olga Quintana says:

    Wow! Beautifully written. Very deep but I can understand where you have been and where you are going.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Phyllis Wall says:

    Love you and I totally get walls! With Aspergers, I have spent my whole li9fe hiding behind them. I am an actress. I love your honesty bud and, I will break down walls to save your sweet self if needed!!!

    Liked by 1 person

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