She was made out of stone. She was
beautiful. She was a building. She was unfathomable. No question about it, she
didn’t understand things. I guess maybe that was what would stand the test of
time. She was probably broken, just in different ways, but she was something; something
to look at, to tick in unusual ways, to observe and to just accept, in all her
confused and hypocritical glory. Always on the edge, feeding off both sides, never
falling off. I could wonder or just let it all slip away, write about it, put
it to bed. Yeah, that was it.
If you ever come up against a brick
wall, don’t take it on, perhaps. All it can do is dwarf you, all it can do is
bounce your words right back at you, maybe even break you; stop you in your
tracks. Completely. Oh, and it towers over me, and I can do nothing. I can storm
its shadow to keep me from the brutal sun, painting the streets, around every
single corner. I finger the puzzle, the pieces in my paws, it makes no sense.
Some puzzles were not meant to be finished.
I could bang my head on you, I
could knock myself silly, really put myself amongst the tortured ones. But, to
be frank, this treatment is educational for me. Everything that rolls my way,
whether I see it coming towards me or not, is designed to help shape me, just
like those jigsaw pieces, so that one day it all fits, so it all just fits,
someday, maybe.
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